


We Can Work It Out

by kassio



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biphobia, Bisexuality, Body Image, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gyms, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Personal Trainer Harry, References to bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-09 17:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11109738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassio/pseuds/kassio
Summary: Louis Tomlinson had big plans for his last year of uni. He was going to hit the gym, he was going to get hot, and he was finally going to catch the eye of the girl of his dreams.Enter Harry Styles, friend-of-a-friend and part-time personal trainer. Falling forhimwas never part of Louis’ plan.





	We Can Work It Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daniellavictoria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniellavictoria/gifts).



> This prompt was a lot of fun to write. I hope you enjoy it! I'm afraid the tags make this sound like a darker fic than it actually is, but I didn't want to miss tagging anything important!
> 
> Lots of gratitude to [elsi-bee](https://elsi-bee.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing and to [aslowmotionaccident](https://aslowmotionaccident.com/) for Britpicking and beta-ing! Thank you both so much. You are terrific and you made this work better. <3
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here](https://fakedeepplantjerker.tumblr.com/) and there's a rebloggable post for this fic [here](https://hlsummerexchange2017.tumblr.com/post/164577672008/honestlytrulycompletelylarrie-we-can-work-it)!

The moment that Louis walked into the university gym, he regretted ever being friends with Liam Payne. The fact that the gym was Liam’s answer to Louis’ problems was troubling and it had him reassessing their whole relationship.

He stopped still on the threshold of the cardio room and grabbed the door jamb. “I’m not doing this.”

Liam laughed and pushed him forward. “I told you, just give it a chance, okay. Didn’t you go to the gym when you played footie back in the day?”

“Well, yeah.” Louis realised far too late that he had backed himself into a corner. He didn’t want to mention to Liam that his college’s gym, changing room, and football pitch had been his personal hell for a few months there until he’d quit the team altogether to get away from his teammates. It was hard enough to forget without someone else pitying him. “Erm, but it’s been like three years. This’ll be terrible. I’m so out of shape now. And what’s the point? I’m never going to look like I did then.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I’m not going to play footie two hours a day, for starters.”

“I don’t play footie two hours a day, and yet.” Liam flexed and grinned.

“Show-off.” He wasn’t wrong, though. Louis tried not to pay attention to it – and he definitely didn’t bring it up, not since that time Liam had rambled about his workout plan for the most boring hour of Louis’ life – but Liam had gotten annoyingly, impressively buff last year. Reluctantly, Louis followed him.

The cardio room was mainly unappealing, but with the saving grace that many of the machines had TVs. Louis thought he could maybe handle working out if he also got to watch telly. Liam didn’t so much as hesitate, though. Instead, he walked straight through to the painfully intimidating weight room. There were massive weights and complicated machines everywhere. He only spotted two women; aside from that, it was gym bros as far as the eye could see, grunting and sweating, bulky muscles flexing.

“Liam! All these guys are jacked!” Louis hissed. “I can’t do this. They’re going to laugh at me.”

“Man, calm down. Everyone’s focused on their own workout. They don’t care what you’re doing. You remember how scrawny I was before I started lifting? No one ever gave me a hard time.”

Louis really did try to believe Liam. He couldn’t stop being nervous, though, which probably explained why he behaved like a five-year-old for the entire session.

“Louis, what are you doing with those weights?”

“Louis, mate, why do I even have to tell you not to stack the benches? Why would you even do that?”

“What—where did all those towels come from? Are you, you’re stealing people’s towels, oh my god, give them back. Wait, no, what did you do to them, don’t give them back.”

“Oh what the fuck, oh my god, don’t wet-willy me while I’m fucking dead-lifting!”

He did at least do the exercises Liam told him to. Well, mostly. Sort of. They were really hard, whereas riling Liam up was really easy and far more satisfying.

Afterward, over smoothies in the gym lobby, Liam said, “So I feel like you’re not really serious about this.”

Louis shrugged. “I dunno. It was your idea.”

“Okay, I know. And I know I can’t make you do it if you really don’t want to.”

Louis groaned. “I’m sorry, Li. It’s just, do you seriously think this will work?”

“Well, yeah, I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t. Look. How long have you been moping about Amy?”

“I haven’t been moping.”

“It’s been like a year. A year of you gathering intel and _moping_ and not doing anything. Sorry, but it’s true. Now you’ve got an opportunity, right? ‘Cause she said her type was, what was it...”

“‘Slender but muscular,’” Louis quoted. Overhearing her say that had been crushing. He’d found out that the girl he fancied had a type, and he wasn’t it, not after three years of laziness and two years of crappy uni food. Instead of commiserating, though, Liam had seen an opportunity. “Yeah. I know you think I can  _become_ her type - and I know I'd have a chance if I were, I know it - but I just can’t imagine I can really… be that.”

“Of course you can. I honestly do think it’s worth a try, man, but _you_ have to put in the work.”

“I’m sorry.” Louis sighed. “No, I know. I should. I’ll do better next time, honestly.”

Liam sipped his smoothie and took his time before answering. “Okay, look. Back when I was learning to drive, my mum refused to teach me. She said, you know, she loved me, but she did not want to be in the passenger seat while I learned how to drive, and I’d have to practise with my dad or my sister because she couldn’t handle it, even though she supported me.”

“You’re dumping me,” Louis gasped.

“Not as a friend!” Liam said frantically. “I just don’t think I can be your trainer!”

“Yeah, I know.” Louis let his shoulders slump. “Sorry.”

“But I have an idea! You should train with _my_ trainer.”

“What? You have a trainer?”

“Wow, you really don’t listen to me sometimes. Yes, since like our second term of uni. First I trained with this guy named Carl, but I didn’t really click with him, so I switched over to Harry, and he’s great. That’s when I really started seeing results. Harry’s awesome.”

“That sounds expensive.”

“No, see, it’s all through the school gym so it’s pretty cheap. It’s a student job. Harry’s in our year, too. I promise, you’re gonna love him. I can’t believe I never introduced you two! Wait, wait, I’m sure you must’ve met him at a party or something.”

“I meet a lot of people, Liam.” He also generally tried to avoid Liam’s smug, preachy fitness friends and ignored all of their boring fitness conversations.

“Come on, let’s go sign you up.”

“What? No,” Louis protested, following Liam as he stood and walked toward the entrance of the building. “No way.”

“Here we are,” Liam announced, steering Louis to the front desk. “Hey, man, we need to make an appointment with Harry for my boy Louis here.”

“No, we don’t!”

“First one’s on me, bro. I promise, you’re gonna love it and come back for more. It’s only like 25 pounds a session. Let’s see. You’re free Tuesday afternoons, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah, but 25 quid?! Mate, you know that’s like my weekly pizza and fast food budget.”

“Some things are worth sacrificing for, I’m just saying.” Liam grinned. “Tuesday at 3 PM. I’m telling you, Lou, just give it a chance.”

* * *

 Louis had very little intention of giving it a chance. An hour before the appointment, he had resolved that he almost certainly wasn’t going. He’d probably be so insufferable that the personal trainer would dump him, too. What was the point?

He should have realised that Liam knew him too well by now.

Liam materialised in his doorway, a grin on his face. “Tommo! You’re here!”

Louis glared and gestured at the papers and books on his desk. “Yeah, and I’m working. Scram.”

“I was afraid you’d be hiding somewhere. Maybe I’m not going to have to drag you kicking and screaming to your appointment after all.”

“Oh, dammit.” Why did he not think of hiding? Why did he stay in his room where anybody could find him?

He certainly couldn’t refuse to go with Liam standing right in front of him, so, filled with dread, he let Liam escort him to the gym. There were two students at the front desk when they arrived. Liam immediately approached one, giving him a casual handshake. “Harry, my man!”

Louis watched their greeting from a safe distance. Harry both was and wasn’t what he expected. He didn’t look like the stereotypical meathead. His dark brown hair was surprisingly long, with curls hanging well below his chin, and held back from his face with some kind of neon pink headband. He was also wearing a Stone Roses shirt – intriguing to Louis, since that happened to be one of his favourite bands, and not one that many people knew.

On the other hand, the guy was built. With the sleeves of his shirt cut off, Louis could see the muscles flexing in Harry’s arms and shoulders as he gestured. He wasn’t huge, not a bodybuilder type, but he was obviously strong. His calves had a hint of ropiness – plenty of muscle under the skin there, too. Louis felt a little uncomfortable with how fit Harry was. It was intimidating. On the other hand, the guy obviously knew something if he looked like _that._

His racing thoughts kept him from fleeing while Liam and Harry were chatting. All too soon, they were turning to him. Liam beamed and said, “So this is my friend Louis! I can’t believe you two haven’t met, but, yeah, this is going to be great. I’m stoked that you guys are gonna get to know each other. Louis, Harry’s the best. You’re in good hands. You’re gonna be amazed.”

“We did meet once, though,” Harry said slowly. “At that thing, that one time. It was a while ago.”

“Right, that thing, of course… No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Harry laughed. “Oh, well. Liam, you better go.”

“Yeah, I know. You behave.” Liam pointed at Louis.

“Why, Liam, when do I not?” Louis simpered.

“Oh my god. I’m not even… nope. Good luck, guys.”

Louis turned to look at his unfairly handsome trainer. Jesus, the only thing he’d be training was his inferiority complex, he thought. “Er, so, what now?”

Harry smiled brightly. “Yeah, so first, I like to do a fitness assessment. We’ll go through some exercises and see where you are. Then we’ll talk about, like, your goals, what you want to get out of training, and from there we’ll work on a plan together. So first day’s pretty easy. Not gonna work you that hard, just figure stuff out.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, this way. You sound a little disappointed.”

Louis sighed. “Well, no, it’s not like I’m eager to torture meself. But…”

“But you won’t leave your first session looking like Mr. Universe.” Harry chuckled.

“Er, something like that.”

“Honestly, once we really get going… but, see, it’s important to start slow. If you throw out your back on day one and you spend the next couple weeks hobbling around doing nothing, then, well, that’s pointless.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, whatever. What now?”

They found themselves by a treadmill, which Harry patted affectionately. “Hop on this baby. We’ll warm up for a couple minutes, let you get the hang of it, and then we’ll have you do, like, half a mile or a mile.”

“Why the uncertainty? So this button adjusts the speed?”

“Yeah, just go at walking pace for a minute and get a feel for it. Well, I’m not going to define some distance before I know what you can do.”

Louis scoffed. “I can run a fucking mile.”

“Hey, okay, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Louis kind of felt like he did, though, so, yes, he ran that mile. It was a lot slower than his best back in year 10 when he’d been in prime football-playing shape, and he was breathing a lot harder than he should be at that pace, but he could still _do_ it.

“Well done,” Harry said warmly.

Louis bristled. “I don’t need you to patronise me. I know I’m out of shape.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Harry shrugged. “Loads of people can’t run a mile. It’s a better start than some people have when they come to me.”

“Whatever. What now?”

They progressed through the weight room with Harry setting Louis to exercise after exercise, swapping out weights and critiquing his form. “Remember what I said about throwing out your back? This isn’t the time to show off. Form first.”

“You’re not just taking pity on me, are you?” Louis asked, lining himself up for another puny 20-pound squat.

“Yeah, horribly injuring my clients on their first day is my standard procedure, but I’m making an exception for you.”

Louis gasped and clapped a hand to his chest. “Are you being sarcastic with me? Is this what I pay you for?”

Harry grinned. “Show me another one.”

Miraculously, after going through all the exercises, Harry still didn’t seem to hate Louis. Louis hadn’t been nearly as much of a pain as he had with Liam, but he knew that didn’t make him perfect. Harry was putting up with him so far, though.

They headed over to the smoothie place in the lobby, where Harry bought them both some terrifying green concoction.

“What the fuck is this,” Louis said flatly.

“Green juice! It’s really good. It’s got, like, pineapple and spinach and kale and apple and banana. Very healthy.”

Louis was suspicious, but he was also thirsty, so he gave it a try. It tasted like fruit but it also tasted like bitterness and dirt. “Bleh.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.” Harry leaned forward. “But tell me about you, Louis. Why are you here? What do want to get out of training? And how much do you want it?”

“I don’t know. I just want to look better. And get back in shape, I guess. I’ve been pretty lazy the last couple years.”

“Do you have any specific goals?” Harry pressed. “Like, I want to be able to do 10 pull-ups, or run a six-minute mile?”

“Not really…”

“Okay. So. Form over function. All right. Well, looking better, what does that mean to you? Like, what’s your ideal physique?”

The first thing that came to Louis’ mind was to say _yours,_ which would just be awkward, _yikes._ “I don’t know. I guess I’d like to lose weight, and just be more muscular. I used to play football and I liked how I looked then, I guess. Not big muscles, not looking like I was jacked up on steroids, just, you know, I’d like to look strong?”

Harry smiled. “Well, the easiest way to make you look strong is to make you strong, so. Okay, I can work with that. All right. Let’s talk schedule, and let’s talk diet.”

“Aw, shit, I have to diet?”

“Oh, not like that. You’ll need fuel. I’m going to make you work hard, and you’ve got to eat to put muscle on. But you’ve got to eat the _right_ stuff.” He tapped his cup of green juice meaningfully. He must have seen the dismay on Louis’ face, because he continued, “Listen, it’s up to you how closely you follow my recommendations. You know, I’m here to help, but you’re the one who has to do the work. If you do what I say, you’re gonna get great results. If you don’t, well, the plan’s not going to be as effective. It’s your call. It’s a question of, how much do you want this?”

* * *

Louis left the gym with a string of sessions booked, a plan for two more workouts before his next appointment with Harry, and the weirdest diet plan he’d ever seen. It was just a long list of foods _to_ eat, without a single thou-shalt-not-eat to be seen. It wasn’t a terribly _fun_ list of foods – mostly lean proteins, whole grains, and vegetables. Still, Louis liked the concept.

The idea that he’d have to go to the gym by himself, work through the exercises with no one to keep him on track or protect him from gym weirdos, was daunting. He thought about Harry’s impressive body, though, and then he thought about Amy, her beautiful face and her sweet laugh and her long black hair, and he thought about how Amy would look at him if he looked like Harry, and he thought, _might as well._

* * *

 “So you stuck to the plan,” Harry said approvingly, watching Louis work through another set of bicep curls.

“Yeah. You can tell?”

“Of course. You wouldn’t have added weight to every exercise otherwise. Okay, focus on keeping your elbows close to your body here, don’t let them go out.” Harry moved to stand behind Louis, putting a hand on the outside of his elbows to hold them in place. “Feel the difference?”

It felt a bit awkward to do the exercise with Harry’s hands on him, but Louis gave it a go. “It’s harder this way.”

“That’s kinda the point,” Harry said, stepping away. “Okay, rest for a sec and then we’ll do another set practicing the form. So how’d your workouts go this last week?”

“Pretty okay, actually. No one gave me a hard time, I remembered where all the weights were… yeah, no problems, really, except for convincing myself to get up and go in the first place. But at least it was only, like, two hours out of my whole week.”

“Sounds like I could talk you into another hour,” Harry mused.

“Wait, what.”

“Okay, maybe not right away. All right, another set, focus on keeping your elbows and shoulders in place… Yeah, that’s much better. How about food, how’d that go this week?”

Louis groaned. “Ugh. I tried, but man, I am already so sick of chicken. And, like, salads? Why? It felt like I’d been chewing for five years and yet hadn’t gotten any actual food. Sometimes you just really need a burger.”

Harry laughed loudly. “God, I know. You get used to it, though. And you learn tricks to make it better. You can make amazing nutritious meals if you cook, too.”

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening. I don’t cook. I just eat in my building’s cafeteria. Hey, but what if we ate together sometime and you can show me your food tricks or whatever.”

Louis immediately worried, _oh shit, was that weird?_ He hadn’t thought this through. The idea had come into his mind, so he’d said it. Harry didn’t seem at all bothered, though. He said, “Oh, yeah, that’s a good idea. I usually have lunch with Liam on Fridays, so, you could join us?”

“Sure.” Louis attempted to sound relaxed, as though he hadn’t just put himself through some bizarre emotional whiplash.

“Cool. All right, let’s hit legs. And then we’re going to talk about adding some cardio in to your plan.”

* * *

It was kind of fascinating to follow Harry around at lunch and hear his assessment of every single dish. He was a bit surprised by what things were Harry-approved and what weren’t. “The sugar content in that is crazy. If you’ve gotta choose between fat or sugar, choose fat,” Harry said, blocking Louis’ attempt to get what looked like some perfectly healthy chicken and vegetables in teriyaki sauce. The meal that Harry put together was actually reasonably tasty, although the amount of veg that he expected Louis to consume was frankly alarming.

“I have literally never seen that much green on your plate, Tommo,” Liam remarked as they all sat down. “This is a miracle.”

“Yeah, well, hold your excitement until I actually eat it, okay? Do you actually eat like this all the time?”

“Yeah,” Harry and Liam chorused. Liam added, “You eat with me all the time, you know this.”

Louis shook his head. “Ugh. I try not to watch you stuffing all that greenery into your gob. It’s gross.”

“It’s not that gross, just eat it.”

“It’s not _that_ gross? So you admit it’s gross!”

“It’s not gross at all! Stop twisting my words!”

Harry observed this, laughing to himself. “You two bicker like brothers. Were you friends before uni?”

“No, but our rooms were right next to each other in our first year, so we’ve been friends from day one,” Liam answered.

Louis snorted. Making air quotes with his hands, he said, “‘Friends.’ As I recall, you hated me at first.”

Harry exclaimed, “No! I can’t imagine it.”

“It’s true. Payno thought I didn’t take anything seriously enough–”

“You annoyed the crap out of me,” Liam interjected.

“And I thought you were a stick in the mud who took uni way _too_ seriously.”

“So what happened?” Harry asked.

“Dunno,” Louis said slowly. “Reckon at some point we just actually listened to each other. He wasn’t completely wrong. Mostly, yes, but I’ll admit, it did me some good to take things seriously now and then.”

Liam nodded. “And I did have more fun once I started hanging out with Louis, and I still kept up my marks, so hey.”

Louis turned to Harry to ask, “What about you, Harry? Too serious or not serious enough?”

“I reckon I’m just the right amount of serious.”

“Oh, how zen. What do you study? Feel free to expound, it’s probably going to take me a while to choke down this mess. Are you actually studying, er, fitness? Is that a thing?”

“No, I’m studying psychology. I got into working out and nutrition back in college, though, and then when I got here and saw the job opening, I just thought it sounded fun. I do like it but I don’t want to do it forever, I don’t think.”

“Why not? You’re really good at it,” Liam said.

“Ah, thanks, mate. It’s just, like, I have lots of interests and I don’t want to just totally dedicate my life to this one thing, you know. And it’s probably more fun as a side thing. I don’t have to take on a client I don’t want to.”

Louis chewed through another tedious mouthful of vegetables and listened. He hadn’t quite realised that Harry could be that choosy. Louis wondered what kind of favours Liam had called in – he had no illusions of being the sort of model client that Harry would _want_ to work with.

The more Louis thought about it, the more he thought that his weird personality surely wasn’t worth whatever cut Harry was getting of that £25 a week. He’d have to work harder.

Liam had practically dragged him kicking and screaming to his first session, but now Louis was plotting how to keep them up. He couldn’t quite believe himself. The thing was, though, that it was _working._ Week by week, he was lifting heavier weights, and now he could swear he was seeing a hint of new muscle definition in his arms. If that could happen after a couple weeks, what could he accomplish in a couple months?

Plus, he could admit to himself – although definitely not to _anyone else, ever_ – that he had a bit of a man-crush. Harry sort of fascinated him. In training, he was focused, but at lunch, his mind had wandered and he’d said the most random things in his slow, even voice. He was both a jock and a nerd; his body was muscular and hard, but his personality was gentle and silly. Louis was realising that he actually liked training with Harry quite a lot. Harry made it fun. He was never mean or patronising, but he was knowledgeable and authoritative enough that Louis was actually willing to do what he said. He was charming and magnetic, not only because of his undeniable good looks, but because of the way he treated people with his easy laugh and his focus and his kind words and his terrible jokes.

Basically, Louis wanted them to be best friends. That was probably weird.

* * *

At their fourth session, Harry said, “You didn’t come to lunch with me and Liam last week.”

Louis blew out a hard breath as he straightened from his squat and racked the weights. “Oh. Didn’t know I was invited.”

Actually, Louis had very much considered showing up, but he was trying to play it cool and not be the weird guy following his personal trainer around. Not being invited wasn’t something that would have stopped him if he’d wanted to come. Harry didn’t know him well enough to know that, though.

“Well, you’re always welcome, but it’s no big deal.”

“You just want to see if I’m actually eating right,” Louis guessed.

Harry huffed out a little laugh. “Nah, that was a freebie. I’m not your nutritionist. If you came to lunch it’d just be, like, hanging out.”

Louis looked at him, startled that Harry hadn’t played along.  Did Harry actually want to hang out with him? Changing the subject, Louis said, “Hey, check this out, I think I’m actually getting muscles. Look. Am I just imagining this?”

Louis flexed, and Harry nodded. “No, you are!” Harry poked Louis’ shoulder, making him laugh and drop his arms.

“Sick.” Louis grinned. “Already!”

“Yeah, it’s great. So I bet that _now_ I can convince you to add a fourth workout to your week. If you want to progress even faster…”

“Hmm.” He didn’t exactly want to, but the clock was ticking: it was his last year of university, which meant his time to woo the girl of his dreams was limited, which meant that he should probably listen to Harry. With a heavy sigh, he said, “Tell me more, Styles.”

* * *

Louis managed to last another whole week before giving in and going to lunch with Liam and Harry again.

It was mostly because Liam had been busy and they hadn’t seen each other much that week, obviously. It was only the tiniest bit that he wanted to see Harry. Their weekly training sessions were so intensely just the two of them, a little Harry-and-Louis bubble, and then he wouldn’t see Harry for a week, and it was kind of weird. He’d hear a stupid joke that Harry would like and then he’d have to wait a whole week to tell him and he might forget it by then.

Surely there were stranger bases for a friendship than that.

* * *

“Can I take my shirt off in here?”

Harry gave him a weird look. “Sure? I mean, please don’t be one of those guys who makes a habit of it, but we don’t have a rule against it. You just, like, put a towel down on a bench if you use it with your shirt off so you don’t get it all sweaty.”

“Ew, no, I don’t want to work out shirtless. I just want you to admire my bod.”

Harry snorted. “Oh, all right.”

Louis glanced around nervously before reaching back and pulling off his shirt. It was nearly the end of the term – he’d been working out for a couple months now, and it was _working._ “Look at this! There’s definitely a hint of ab here, right? Like, at least one ab. Look at my chest!” Louis flexed experimentally.

“Yeah, man, you look good! Hell, that’s at least two abs. I knew you could do it. Now put your shirt back on.”

Laughing, Louis did as he was told. “You’re a freakin’ miracle worker, H.”

“Hey, you did the work.”

“Well.” Louis frowned, weighing his words. “You made me want to do the work, though. So. Thanks.”

Harry grinned. “This feels like a perfect moment to start talking about our strategy for Christmas holidays.”

“What strategy?” 

“It’s a couple weeks. You could lose a lot of ground in that time if you don’t keep working out.”

Louis let his mind drift, half-listening as Harry went on about what he could do to keep up his progress while he was at home. He didn’t want to lose ground, it was true, because this was all for a purpose, a purpose which had suddenly leapt to the front of his mind. He was doing all of this to be hot enough to catch a certain someone’s eye. Back at the beginning of the term, he hadn’t considered what he would do if that actually happened, because it seemed so unlikely. Now it _was_ happening and Louis wasn’t sure how to use it. He was getting into shape right as they sank into the deepest, chilliest part of winter. Louis was always well bundled up these days. He had no way to show off: he’d look incredibly weird if he paraded around campus in a sleeveless shirt, not to mention that he’d be cold and miserable. He couldn’t just rip his shirt off in class tomorrow morning, flex, and strut around like a peacock until Amy fell in love with him.

He needed a situation where it would be comfortable and normal to be scantily-clad, maybe even shirtless, around his crush. When it finally came to him, he gasped in delight and almost dropped his weights. This was not great, as he was bench-pressing at the time.

“Whoa, shit,” Harry exclaimed, grabbing the bar his hands had been hovering under as he spotted Louis. “You okay?”

“Sorry!” Louis quickly racked the weight and dropped his arms with a laugh. “Sorry, I’m fine. I just had a great idea.”

“Er, don’t think so much when you’re bench-pressing, then. The last thing I need is you crushing your chest with all this weight.”

“I’m going to throw a party!”

“You’re going to finish your set, Tomlinson. I see you trying to distract me. Back to it.”

“Fuckin’ slavedriver,” Louis muttered, reaching up for the weights again. Once he finished the set, he said, “Hey, do you want to come? To the party, I mean! You can give me your number if you want and I’ll let you know the details.”

“Er, okay. Sure, I like a good party if I’m free.” Harry shrugged. “When?”

“I don’t know, on the weekend, obviously. I’ll do it at my friend’s flat. He’s got a sick place. Okay, type your number in here.”

“You think your friend is just going to let you throw a party at his place with, like, no notice?” Harry asked in a monotone voice as he typed carefully on the tiny screen.

“I don’t see why not.”

“Why not? Erm, school, for example? All the stuff that everyone has to get done before holidays, maybe?”

“He doesn’t care; he dropped out after first year.” Louis shook his head dismissively and accepted his phone back. “Cool, I’ll text you.”

“I won’t be holding my breath about this party,” Harry said with a little smirk, “but now I can remind you to work out over the holidays.”

“Ah, shit. I played myself.”

* * *

Convincing Zayn to throw a party at his flat _was_ easy. Zayn hated the social pressures of hosting a party, but he didn’t mind offering up his space for someone else to throw one. He’d spend the night holding court in a relatively quiet corner, blowing smoke rings and treating his artsy friends to his stoned pontifications. Late at night, when the crowds thinned, they’d probably manage to get him to paint something.

Technically, Zayn’s flat wasn’t actually a flat. It had been a dilapidated office in a very old building in a decaying part of town. The offices were being rented out for a pittance as art studios now. Technically, no one was allowed to live there, but of course they did. Every “studio” had some variation on a curtained alcove with a bed in it, electric kettle and hot plate plugged into highly questionable electrical outlets.

It was a complete tip, but it meant that Zayn could afford his art supplies and weed (which he argued also counted as art supplies). He could do whatever he liked, splattering paint on the floors, spray painting on the walls when he felt like it. It was also absolutely brilliant for parties because no one would call the cops and risk getting evicted from their illegal homes over a bit of noise. He’d moved there when he left university to pursue his art, and he’d been content there for the last couple years.

Louis had managed to invite Amy. He’d done it under the cover of inviting a number of people from the course that they were both in, but he’d made sure to lean in and tell her especially that he hoped she could make it. “We could all use a little break before exams, right?” he’d said, giving her his most charming smile, and she’d smiled back, playing with her hair. Good signs.

He had a pile of cheap shitty beer and shittier spirits; he had a sick playlist and some borrowed speakers; he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances on their way, hopefully with their own additions of food and booze. He and Zayn shoved the sparse furniture against the walls and set up a makeshift bar. All of Zayn’s art and art supplies got stashed in his neighbour’s studio in exchange for all the terrible beer she was willing to drink. With that accomplished, they all did a shot together, took a few hits from a joint, cranked up the music, and waited.

A cool 45 minutes after the official start time, the first early birds started arriving. They trickled in, some bearing extra alcohol or crisps. It didn’t take long for the poorly insulated rooms to warm up with the heat of their bodies. Between that and a strategic amount of alcohol – not _too_ much, as he didn’t want to make an ass of himself tonight – Louis was soon stripping off his jumper, baring his arms in a new sleeveless shirt.

Most of his clothes hadn’t been fitting quite right recently. His shoulders were bigger but his midsection was smaller; his trousers seemed loose. He reckoned it didn’t necessarily make sense to buy new clothes if his body might keep changing. He didn’t have the money to shop for new clothes every week, as much as he’d like to. This night was a special occasion, though. The whole point was to make a good impression.

After years of feeling like crap about himself, suddenly he’d found himself looking in the mirror and liking what he saw. It was a heady feeling. In new skin-tight black jeans and an arm-baring burgundy shirt, he looked even better than usual. He looked _good._

He looked good, and people noticed. He flitted around the room, greeting people and dancing and yelling over the music, and his friends kept exclaiming over him, poking his arm and pinching his bum while he laughed and jumped away from them. The room was full of bodies and throbbing beats, and Louis was having so much fun that he didn’t even notice Amy come in. He had been egging on some people spray-painting a wall. Then he turned away, and suddenly, there she was.

A small part of his mind noticed that her long dark hair was curled loosely, and she was wearing a short dress with tights underneath. She looked lovely. Mostly, though, he noticed that she was smiling at him and blushing, standing behind him like she had been looking for him. She darted in and hugged him. It was just a quick squeeze of arms, a brief press of bodies, but it stunned him. They spent time together with their classmates, yes, but they were just classmates. They didn’t hug hello.

Well, apparently now they did. _Holy shit, it really worked,_ he thought in amazement. “Amy! Hey! Glad you could make it!”

She smiled up at him. “I heard you throw the best parties, I couldn’t miss it! Thanks for inviting me!”

“Do you have a drink yet? Here, I’ll get you something, let’s check out the bar.”

The real genius of having the party at Zayn’s place became clear then. Amy was full of questions about the flat and the building and the art on the walls, and Louis was happy to answer them all. When a girlfriend appeared and dragged Amy away, wailing about some boy issue that she needed help solving immediately, Louis could hardly even be sad about it. It was surely the longest conversation the two of them had ever had, and it boded very well for the future. He’d find her again later.

He found Zayn and spent a little time with him and Liam in a quieter room, smoking and recounting his conversation with Amy in a voice that was probably a bit too loud. Shaking his head, Zayn laughed, “I can’t fuckin’ believe that operation get-hot-and-get-the-girl worked.”

Louis grinned. “It’s still a work in progress but, fuck, I feel like it really is working. Wait, am I hot? Tell me I’m hot, Zaynie.”

He leaned in and made smooching noises, which made Zayn laugh even harder and push his face away with an open hand. “You’re so vain, of course you’re hot.”

Louis licked Zayn’s palm, Zayn kicked him, and Liam leaned in to snag the joint out of Zayn’s hand while the two of them struggled. “I’d like some credit over here, since it was my idea,” he said haughtily before taking a drag.

“I don’t know, what if he loses his bum? My anaconda don’t want none unless he’s got buns, hon,” Zayn sang.

Liam laughed. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Louis sputtered indignantly and untangled himself from Zayn. He stood up and said, “You guys are the worst. I’m going back inside.”

He paused for a moment back on the edge of the main party, letting his senses adjust to the loud music and low light. It was kind of amazing to look out over the crowd – people sitting and drinking, people dancing with abandon, people having fun – and know that he had brought them together. It was a strangely satisfying feeling. He might not be great at much, but he could throw a hell of a party, and that counted for something.

His eyes scanned over the crowd. There were his mates from this class, from that class, some of Zayn’s artistic friends, there were those weird musicians that he kept seeing around campus, there – ah, there was Amy, dancing with a few girls she’d brought with her, giggling and waving a drink in the air. Louis imagined going up to her, putting his hands on her hips and swaying with her. It was thrilling to think that she probably would dance with him. Maybe they would just laugh it off after, but maybe they wouldn’t.

A flash of colour caught his eye. What he saw startled a laugh out of him: there was Harry in a button-down shirt, eye-wateringly bright in swirling pink and yellow print, that was unbuttoned halfway down his torso, doing a weird dance near some guys who Louis didn’t recognise. Harry threw his head back, mouth wide in a blissful grin, shimmying his shoulders and shaking his hips.

Another mental image flashed unbidden through Louis’ mind: his hands on Harry’s body, dancing against him, laughing into each other’s mouths. A pang of want was a sudden pain in his gut. His head spun, his heart raced, and he felt suddenly, horribly – _something_ , he didn’t know what he felt, but it didn’t feel good.

He was out in the hallway without a clear memory of how he’d gotten there, squatting down with his hands pressed to the dirty floor. He focused on the feeling under his palms, cold and gritty. There was no need to think about anything. He could just exist here.

“Louis?”

Louis breathed in shakily. In what he thought was an admirably even voice, he said, “Hey, Harry. Are you having a good time?”

He was still looking at the ground, but in his field of view he could see that hideous shirt moving as Harry knelt down next to him. It made him laugh, which made Harry giggle uncertainly, too. “We saw you run out. Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, man. Yeah, I’m good. I think I smoked too much. Just, like. Dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Do you need something? Should I bring you some water?”

“No, no. Just need a sec.” He lifted his head to smile reassuringly at Harry and immediately wished he hadn’t. Harry was way, way too close. Maybe it was the weed or the alcohol, but Harry’s face was huge in front of him. All he could see were green eyes and lush pink lips, and that was terrible, because then his brain was wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips, and that was definitely not an okay train of thought. “Actually, no, yeah, bring me some water. And Liam.”

“Okay.” Harry frowned. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Harry disappeared, leaving Louis in some semblance of peace again. Shortly, another man appeared with a glass of water. He introduced himself as Niall, saying that Harry had sent him while he looked for Liam. He had an Irish accent, which was all the conversation fodder that Louis needed. He got the lad talking about his homeland and what had brought him to England. It was soothing to listen to him rambling while quietly sipping his water.

He felt calmer by the time Harry reappeared with Liam in tow. Liam smiled at the Irish guy and said, “Hey, thanks, Niall, I got it. How you doing, Lou?”

Louis reached for Liam’s hand and let his friend pull him to his feet. “I’m okay. Sorry. I just felt weird for a minute. Think I’ll take it easy for a bit, but, let’s go back in.”

Liam frowned. “Are you sure? I bet we could find a place if you want to lay down for a while. I could even take you home.”

“No! No way! This is my party, and it is way too early to go home.” Louis shook his head firmly. With a deep breath, he pushed all his worries to the back of his mind and focused on what he needed to do. “I have _responsibilities,_ Liam. I must take care of my adoring public.”

Harry snorted and scrunched up his face. Louis aggressively ignored any part of him that thought that was cute. Liam sighed. “All right, well, I’m sticking by you.”

Louis slung an arm around Liam’s shoulders, pulling him in and noting with relief that he had not the slightest desire to snog his best mate. “What would I do without you, Payno?”  

* * *

The next day was like wearing a shirt with an itchy tag and no scissors at hand. It was like having a pebble in your shoe that you can’t shake out. The sense of gnawing discomfort followed him through a groggy morning of cleaning Zayn’s flat, through snacks and cups of tea that did nothing to soothe him, through half-hearted attempts to start on his reading for the next week.

He couldn’t even wank. God, he wanted to, but when he put his hand on himself, the first person he thought of was _Harry._ He pulled his hand away like he’d been burned, but just as if he’d touched a hot pan, the damage was already done. He was hard in a flash, confused and ashamed. He wasn’t the sort of guy to perv on his trainer like that, and more importantly, he liked _women._

He finally ended up going to the gym. If he were going to be full of so much restless energy, he might as well use it. He did actually feel better afterward, tired but stronger and more settled. He could set aside his confusion to focus on something else. He reminded himself that was hung over, or, hell, maybe he was still high; it was just a weird day. The feeling would pass. For now, he didn’t need to worry about it.

* * *

Louis looked forward to the Christmas holidays for many reasons. There was the break from work and stress, the joy of being with his family again, the pleasures of being back in a real home, and the excitement of his birthday and Christmas.

This year, there was something else: he could really use a break from Harry.

Their next training session was a few days after the party. Louis walked into the gym full of confidence. It had just been a weird weekend, he was sure, too much of everything. He was all sorted now. Back to normal. Completely fine.

Then he walked in to find Harry in a tight black shirt clinging to every curve and muscle of his body, the dark fabric an elegant contrast with his winter-pale skin, and, okay, no, he wasn’t fine at all.

“Your shirt’s too small and it looks weird,” he said immediately, because the best defence was always a good offence.

“Hi to you too. No, it’s supposed to be fitted. The guy at the shop said so. Check it out, it’s wool, feel it.” Harry leaned in, offering himself up like Louis was just supposed to start groping his shirt.

Wow, no.

Louis stepped back. “Gross, that sounds terrible. Why the fuck would you work out in _wool?_ What kind of monster wears wool next to the skin?”

“No, it’s special wool, it’s really soft and, like, wicking. It’s great for when you’re sweating actually.”

“Ew, ew, stop talking, you’re just grossing me out now.” He set to walking toward the weight room, but he could tell that Harry was following by the quiet giggles behind him. This was going amazingly poorly already.

From there on, the session was excruciating. He didn’t even want to _look_ at Harry, because he didn’t want to do anything _but_ look at Harry. It felt like year nine all over again, when he was burning with a terrible crush on his best mate’s girlfriend and he knew he could never ever do a thing about it.

Except that this wasn’t a crush, because Louis wasn’t into men.

Except that it felt exactly like a crush.

But it was just because he liked Harry so much as a _friend._ Harry was a great guy, and Louis admired him a lot, and that was all it was.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked. “You’re very quiet today.”

“Yeah. Ugh.” Louis sighed. “Fuck, like, I just can’t get out of my own head. Oh! You know what! We should do something different today. I don’t know. Something intense where that’s all I can focus on, you know?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Awesome. Hmm, let me think… okay, yeah.” He grinned. “Let’s start with wind sprints.”

“Oh, shit.”

He remembered wind sprints from his football-playing days. The first few sprints were fun but then it got more and more painful. Harry made him run on the indoor track until he was tired enough that his form deteriorated. Then Harry took him through body-weight exercises that he could do at home over the holidays. It had been so long since he'd done any of this that he forgot how hard it was. He had kind of thought these exercises would be easier than lifting heavy weights, but he was horribly wrong.

“What kind of sick bastard comes up with an exercise like this,” Louis groaned. He had his back against the wall, knees bent like he was sitting on a chair, but with nothing under him. It had felt easy for about two seconds. Now his legs were absolutely burning.

Harry just laughed. “Wait ‘til we start doing burpees.”

“You sadistic son of a bitch.”

_This is banter, not flirting, right?_ Louis thought. Fortunately, he didn’t have the energy to spare to panic about it.

After the workout, Louis’ body felt like jelly, and he was too weak to resist Harry dragging him over to the smoothie stand and shoving a terrifying concoction into his hand.

“Extra protein, lots of spinach and pineapple and banana. Your body’s gonna need it after that workout. Now, drink this, walk around a bit, stretch, and then take the hottest shower you can stand. It’ll help your muscles relax. That was a killer workout, Lou. You really pushed it today.” He chuckled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but whatever was going on with you today – you keep that up and you could achieve a lot.”

Louis sighed heavily. He hoped that he’d get over this fascination with Harry over Christmas holidays. The prospect of continuing to feel like this - and working so hard every week - was not appealing. “Well, at least there’s that.”

At least he had the break to get over this.

* * *

No one commented on Louis’ physique when he got home. He was disappointed for a second until he remembered that no one was going to notice under his warm, baggy winter clothes.

He both looked forward to and dreaded the commentary. He did want his hard work to be admired, after all, but he also knew that his family would pry. There wasn’t much choice, though: he needed to exercise, and it’d be hard to do in his tiny, messy room. Sure, he technically could clean the laundry off his floor and make enough space to do press-ups, but why bother when there was a perfectly good living room?

Harry had given him a list of exercises he could do at home. It only took him a few minutes to remember how bloody miserable all these exercises were. The first few lunges were fun until his legs started burning. Planks were so painful that they probably violated the Geneva convention. In his ratty vest and shorts, he collapsed onto the ground from another stupid plank, panting and sweating. Naturally, this was the moment that the second-oldest of his sisters appeared.

“Ew,” Fizzy sniffed, prodding him with a toe. “Hey, whoa, what happened to you?”

“Pain,” Louis moaned.

“You’re all muscly.” Fizzy nudged him more firmly, then raised her voice and called, “Hey, everyone, come look at Louis! He’s a bodybuilder now!”

“I’m not a bodybuilder! Oi, can’t a man work out in peace.”

Lottie, the oldest of his younger sisters and a proper teenager now, walked into the room with one of the babies on her hip and asked, “What’s going on?”

“Louis’ gotten all strong. Flex for us, Louis,” Fizzy said imperiously.

Louis sighed and stood as the rest of the family came in – his eight-year-old twin sisters, his mum with the other of the baby twins, and his step-dad Dan. It was terribly embarrassing to be exhorted to flex for them, but he felt a rush of pride when they all exclaimed over his muscles and his ability to do numerous press-ups for their amusement.

“How did this happen?” his oldest sister asked.

Louis rolled his eyes. “I worked out, obviously. And ate a horrifying amount of protein.”

“You must’ve worked out, like, all the time. Where’d the motivation come from?” Lottie poked him in the side annoyingly. “Tell meeeee. Tell me your secrets so I can be hot, too.”

“Ugh, I was trying to impress - someone, okay.”

_Someone._ He should’ve said “a girl.” Certainly that was how it started, but he wasn’t sure that was completely true now. Day to day, he thought about his trainer more than he did about his crush. Would Harry be impressed by his gains this week? Did he look more muscular, and would Harry comment on it? Would Harry think this nutrition article he found was interesting or would he have read it already?

“Oooooh, Louis’ got a crush,” Fizzy sang.

“Oh, leave me alone. No more, please,” he said, laughing from his prone position on the floor.

“Wait, wait!” Lottie rushed over and deposited her bundle of giggling six-month-old baby onto his back. “Baby press-ups!”

“Lottie!” their mother exclaimed.

“I’ll stay right here and hold onto them, Mum. Bring me Ernie, please? It’s gonna be such a good picture.”

The cameras snapped away and the babies shrieked and laughed and squirmed while Louis tried to get his giggles under control enough to do a couple press-ups. He had a rotating audience of little sisters through the rest of his workout, which probably made it take twice as long, but it was awfully cute to coach some eight-year-olds through a set of burpees. Fizzy challenged him to a wall-sit competition, Lottie did lunges with him down the hall, and even the babies were entertained for a few minutes.

The resulting pictures were awfully cute, too. His favourite was one where he was obviously laughing and so were both babies on his back. It was sweet and adorable, plus his arms looked _great._ He spent a long minute staring at the phone and debating whether to send it to Harry. He wondered if that would be weird. It was just, Harry loved babies and cute pictures, and he’d be happy to know that Louis had been working out, so – he’d be happy to get this, right? He probably wouldn’t think it was that strange.

He sent it, and he got a reply back within minutes. _So you did find some weights. Those babies are very cute! I’m jealous._

Louis had hoped for a little more enthusiasm, but, okay. He wrote back, _It’s a good thing they’re cute because they’re very loud and smelly sometimes. Not great weights either, very squirmy._

_Who’s the girl in the picture?_ Harry asked. _Are you babysitting?_

Louis frowned. Had he not mentioned his siblings to Harry? He sort of assumed that everyone just knew about them. _No, they’re my siblings!_

They texted off and on for the rest of the day, Harry full of questions about Louis’ giant family. When the conversation fizzled, though, Louis let it go. He was supposed to be trying _not_ to think about Harry.

As it happened, it wasn’t that difficult. Christmas time in a house full of children was the definition of a distracting environment. There was a good solid week when it was easy to put it all out of his mind. He could hang out with his family, text with Zayn and Liam, and focus entirely on them and on Christmas.

Eventually there was that post-Christmas lull, though – that point where everyone was exhausted, the kids were cooped up inside and driving everyone crazy, and there were still bits of wrapping paper on the floor that no one was quite motivated to clean up.

One evening ended up with Louis and his mum Jay alone, just watching mediocre telly and drinking tea. All the children were asleep or doing their own thing in their rooms, and Dan had gone to bed early. So far, all of his alone time with his mum had included chores – shopping, cooking, cleaning. He was fairly sure this was their only uninterrupted leisure time together in a while, and it was nice to just chat and catch up while watching some stupid program on TV.

“Hey, Mum,” Louis ventured after they’d been quiet for a few minutes.

“Mm-hm?”

“I remember this one time – we were just in the car and you were taking us to school, and out of nowhere, you said you’d always love us, even if we were gay or we decided we weren’t really the gender we thought we were or whatever.” He chuckled quietly. “Y’know, even then I had a crush on a girl, so I was like, yeah, this doesn’t apply to me, but it was always nice to know you felt that way, like, in case any of the girls needed that.”

Jay sipped her tea, glancing over at him. “I’m glad. Are you trying to tell me something, boo?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Louis grabbed a blanket off the arm of the couch and draped it over himself. “I mean, I definitely like girls. Well, women. But I. I sort of fancy this guy as well. I don’t know. I thought it was just, like, a weird passing thought, but it’s been a few weeks and I…” Louis sighed heavily. “I try to stop but I keep thinking about him.”

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, don’t you,” his mum said fondly, patting his knee.

“I’ve been trying so hard not to. Do I? Is that it that obvious?”

Jay chuckled. “Yeah, it sort of is.”

“It’s just confusing,” Louis admitted quietly. “I thought I was straight, and now… shouldn’t I have known before now? Am I just making this all up?”

“Oh, honey.” Jay set her tea down and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him in. “I don’t know what this is like for you, but you know, loads of people figure out new things about their sexuality later in life. Being in uni and realising you might be bisexual, that’s probably not late at all in the curve, as these things go. And you know I’ll always love you and support you, no matter what. This doesn’t change who you are or how much I love you.”

Louis dropped his head to her shoulder. “I know. It’s still good to hear.”

She kissed the top of his head. “I know. That’s why I say it.”

“You’re the best mum in the world.” Louis let her words roll around in his mind. He felt shaky and nervous, and let himself lean heavily into her comforting, maternal warmth. He swallowed and said, in a tiny voice, “I guess. I might be bi. I think… maybe.”

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me, boo. I’m proud of you.” After a beat of silence, she said, “Do you want to tell me about him?”

“Oh my god, no,” Louis exclaimed, and burst out laughing. Like a bubble popping, the tension disappeared. They sat on the sofa giggling together, and Louis was sure he’d never felt more safe or more loved.

* * *

There was an LGBT+ society that had an office on campus. Louis had seen their posters around, and he knew Zayn had gone to a few of their events in his first year. Before this year, he’d never been there himself.

He went on a particularly gloomy day in January, not right at opening time but early enough that he reckoned most people were still in their classes. He was all bundled up against the cold, wearing a beanie and his hoodie pulled up over it and a coat over all of that. It felt cosy and safe.

The room was a little hard to find, tucked away in a building he rarely visited. It took him a while to find the door. The sign had probably been discreet once, but now it had a few stickers on it – a little rainbow, a unicorn, a smiley face that made him smile too in spite of his nerves. He steeled himself and eased the door open.

“Hey, welcome,” a voice said warmly. Louis froze.

There was a desk near the front door, currently occupied by a lanky man with a tall quiff who was lounging in an office chair and looking perfectly at ease. Louis didn’t know who he was, but he recognised the man from the party he’d thrown last term. He was a friend of Harry’s.

“First time, huh?”

“Er…” Louis looked around uncertainly. “I think…”

“Please don’t do that ‘oops, I’m lost, I was looking for another office’ thing.” The guy rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard it a million times. Come on in, close the door. This is a safe space. It’s okay.”

Louis nervously tugged his beanie lower and stepped inside. “Please don’t tell Harry,” he blurted.

The man raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know why that’s your worry, but, sure. If you need to be reassured, no, I don’t run around gossiping about everyone who comes in here. I’m Nick, by the way.”

“I’m Louis. Are you, like, in charge here?”

“Nah, I just volunteer a few hours a week. So, Louis. Got any questions about what we do here? Want to talk? Just want to poke around?”

“Erm, yeah, I’ll just, like, look around, I guess.”

“Suit yourself. Let me know if you need anything,” Nick said easily. He put his feet up on the desk and picked up his phone. He seemed perfectly uninterested in Louis, which was just what Louis wanted.

Well, what Louis most wanted was for neither Harry nor any of his friends to know about this, but what was done was done. He might as well check the place out.

It was a small room, furnished with the aforementioned desk along with a cheap Ikea sofa and a couple of chairs in the middle of the room. Along the walls there were shelves with books, DVDs, and various pamphlets, along with the baskets of condoms and dental dams that he expected. The walls had a few posters of out celebrities, a bulletin board full of upcoming events, some educational posters, and a variety of flags – lots of them, not only rainbows. He didn’t know what they all meant, but he was pretty sure the pink and blue one was for bisexuality. It was nice to see.

The books were nicely categorised, he saw – sorted into fiction and non-fiction, and then into other categories: gay, lesbian, bi, trans, gender theory, sexual health, and so on.

“Can you check books out?” Louis asked timidly.

Nick looked up from his phone. “No, sorry. We used to but half of them never came back. You can hang out here and read, though. We’ve got tea and snacks, too.”

Louis looked where Nick was pointing to a little corner with some cheap snacks, a kettle, and a coffee maker. “Cool.”

Well, he was here. Might as well.

He set to making himself a cuppa and picked out a couple of books to flip through. He curled up at the end of one of the couches with his little stack of literature and tried to pretend that he was all alone in the little room. In the end, it wasn’t hard to concentrate. This place had good books. As nervous as he was, too, it felt nice to be here. He was sure that he could read whatever he needed on the internet, but being here, this felt less like a secret he furtively indulged alone in his room, and more like connecting. There was a community here that he could be a part of, if he wanted to at some point.

He still had this creeping feeling that he was deceiving himself somehow – that he was a fraud on some level. The stories he read in these books felt like his own story, though. He saw himself in these pages. It didn’t feel comfortable, but it felt right.

He heard a few people pass through, heard them exchange words and laughs with Nick, saw them move through the room purposefully. He kept his head down and his nose in a book and they left him alone. Eventually, even his fascination couldn’t overpower his rumbling stomach. With some dismay, he realised that it was well past the lunch hour; he’d have to scrounge something up on his own. He picked up his books and walked over to the shelves to start replacing them.

“Here, I’ll help ya,” Nick said, clomping over on his annoyingly long legs. Louis really didn’t want him to – he’d see what Louis had been reading – but Nick pulled a few books out of his hands before Louis could figure out how to gracefully avoid it. Eyes on the bookshelves, Nick noted, “Some good picks there. You all right?”

“Of course I’m all right.”

“You just seemed nervous. You feel better now?”

Louis shrugged reluctantly. “I guess.”

“Well. Here’s a list of upcoming events.” Nick passed him a sheet of paper. “We got some, like, discussion and support kinds of groups, and then movie night every week, that’s always fun. Just so you know.”

Louis fidgeted with the edge of the paper, creasing it without purpose. “I’ve only told my mum so far,” he admitted, because he felt like he should say something.

“Oh. Yeah? How’d it go?”

“Good, actually.” Louis smiled and looked up at Nick properly. “No, I’m lucky. My friends and family, they’re all, they’re great. They won’t mind if I’m, erm… not straight. I just want to be sure before I go, like, making a big fuss about it.”

Nick chuckled, not unkindly. “I feel like you’re probably pretty sure if you’re here in the first place. But I get it.”

“Maybe.” Louis shrugged and looked down at the paper in his hand. “Well. Er, thanks, Nick. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Hope so.” Nick gave him a wink that made him blush. He rolled his eyes to cover it and left then with a wave.

So. He did that. The world kept turning. Okay.

* * *

He coped with Harry by continuing to demand harder workout at their sessions together. He couldn’t ogle his trainer when he was focusing on his own form, and he couldn’t think about how goddamn _cute_ Harry was if his mind was spinning with exhaustion.

There were only two problems with this strategy. First, there was the almost unbearable happiness he felt when Harry praised him for his hard work and the progress he was making.

Secondly, there was the fact that he was hungry _constantly._ It was really annoying. He texted Harry, _I’m so fucking hungry all the time. Am I supposed to be this hungry???_

Harry just wrote back, _LOL. Eat more! Just make it quality stuff!_

_I think I’m already like 50% chicken at this point,_ Louis answered.

_Well, make it 60 then. Do what you gotta do,_ Harry replied.

It struck Louis then, not for the first time, that he was an idiot. This would be an incredibly smooth place to ask someone out to dinner, except that it would be weird to ask Harry out. He didn’t even know what Harry’s sexuality was; the potential for disaster seemed much greater than asking a girl out because of that. Harry was friends with Nick who worked at the LGBT+ society’s office, though, so he couldn’t be a raging homophobe. Perhaps Louis was exaggerating the risk.

On the other hand, when it came down to it, he didn’t feel ready to ask a man out. He was still half-convinced he was imagining all of his feelings. He kept telling himself that it didn’t matter anyway, because Harry was off-limits and things with Amy were going shockingly well.

Ever since they’d been back from the holidays, she kept talking to him. Of course they’d spoken before – they were in the same course of study, had a lot of classes together, and had loads of acquaintances in common. Mostly, their interactions had been quick consultations about schoolwork, or both being in the same large group of people chatting or eating. Now, though, they were often sitting near each other in class, having little chats before and after the lectures about nothing at all. A few times, they even went to get coffee together after class – never alone, but never in a massive group, either. He thought they might be working up to going alone.

As well as things were going, he should have been able to just not care about the fact that he might not be straight. He and Amy might fall in love and get married and then he’d never be with a man so it didn’t _matter._

Except it did. Except he couldn’t forget about it. Except he couldn’t let it go.

He decided to talk to Zayn. If he couldn’t talk to his gay friend about his sexuality crisis, who else? It took him a few drinks to work up to it, by which point Liam had also shown up. Louis, seated on the floor in front of a very confusing bit of paint on the wall, frowned up at Liam. “What’re you doing here?”

“You texted me that you were hanging out at Zayn’s.”

“Oh. Well, it wasn’t an invitation,” Louis said crossly.

“What? Since when is you texting me where you are not an invitation? Erm… should I go?”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Oh, whatever, you’re here. Do a shot, catch up.”

“Are you drunk? Lou, it’s Tuesday.”

“Yes. We’re having a super deep heart-to-heart. So. Alcohol. Here.”

Liam took an obedient swig from the bottle that Louis passed him.

“Louis is a liar,” Zayn said. He was sprawled on the floor near Louis, drawing on his foot with a marker. “We’re not having a heart-to-heart. He hasn’t said anything worthwhile this whole time.”

“I’m working up to it.”

“Work faster. We don’t have all night.”

Louis sighed and flopped down to lie on the floor. It was disgusting – he was sure that Zayn had never mopped or even swept in here – but he didn’t really care. “I don’t even know where to start. Please drink more, Liam. I’d love it if you didn’t remember this.”

“What’s going on, Tommo? Now you’re making me worry,” Liam said.

Louis was silent for a long moment, considering his words. “So you guys know how I used to play football. And then I stopped in sixth form.”

“Yeah?” Zayn prompted him. “To focus on your schoolwork, right?”

“No,” Louis said dully. “That’s what I’ve told people, but, no. So. I basically got. Well. Forced off the team. One of the guys – star player, team captain – he started telling everyone that, like, I’d been checking the other lads out in the locker room and that kind of thing. And it sort of escalated from there, you know, others joining in, and saying shit about me, and… I mean, you know. So. So I ended up quitting the team because it was just… awful. But it didn’t really end there. The team kept picking on me until we left school, you know? And then their friends… that’s why I don’t really have mates from school. Ugh, pass me that beer, would you.”

Louis sat up and took a long pull from the beer passed to him, trying hard to ignore Liam’s sad-puppy face.

“Shit, Louis, I never knew,” Zayn said.

“Yeah, no, I don’t like to talk about it. But, like. So, here’s the thing. Yeah, it was an awful couple years, I lost all my friends, yeah, maybe I’m not 100% over it. But it was – first of all, I could tell myself that it wasn’t really about me? One of my best friends, he was on the team, and, well, he didn’t stick by me publicly, but he didn’t come after me either. He told me that he thought Phil – that was the team captain – that Phil was threatened by my skill or whatever, and a bunch of people knew his girlfriend fancied me.” Louis rolled his eyes. “So he made my life hell over that and everyone else fell in line. So, like, I’ve known that everything they said was all meaningless, because it was all based on lies, you know, I didn’t fancy any of my teammates and I didn’t look at them like that. So all the shit they said about me, I could tell myself, they were all wrong, don’t believe any of it.”

He took another swallow of beer and then another until the can was empty, as if the liquid could wash the painful tightness down his throat and away. When he threw the beer can to the ground, he had tears in his eyes, _dammit._

Liam put a hand on Louis’ knee, leaning in with concern etched on his features. “I’m so sorry, man.”

Zayn wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Is this coming up for a particular reason, or did you just need to talk about it?”

Louis let out a little hiccupping sob. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and breathed hard through his nose, trying to steady himself. “I-I think I might be bi. And if they were right about that then maybe they were right about _all_ of it.”

“Oh, Lou,” Liam said sadly, joining Zayn in wrapping Louis in a tight, two-sided hug. “You know they were full of shit. Of course that’s not true. Of course not.”

“Fuck those pieces of shit,” Zayn agreed fiercely. “You’re amazing and they’re awful. I don’t know what they said to you but – y’know, stopped clock’s right twice a day and all that. Just because they got one thing right about you, that don’t mean anything. You can’t possibly believe them, right?”

Louis mumbled, “I don’t know. It’s hard. I’m sorting it all out.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Lou, but you definitely shouldn’t let them hold you back now. Not when they hurt you just to… to be part of the group or whatever.” Zayn poked him. “Can we go back to the part about you being bi? Have you been holding out on me all this time, Tommo?! All the times I talked about fit blokes and you just sat there, all the times I could’ve used a wingman at a club…”

Louis laughed weakly. “No. I’ve only just been figuring it out. ”

“How did you not know?” Liam asked.

“Liam,” Zayn snapped.

“Sorry! Am I not supposed to ask that? I don’t really get it. But, sorry, you’re right, you don’t need to, like, answer my dumb questions.”

“’s okay,” Louis said, voice muffled against Zayn’s shoulder. “Don’t know. I always fancied girls. Then one day I fancied a guy. It’s really inconvenient.”

Zayn laughed. “Tell me about it. Guys are pretty great, though.”

“You were never attracted to blokes before, though?” Liam pressed.

Louis sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Liam! Did I think a guy was attractive before and I just ignored the feeling? Maybe, I don’t fucking _know._ Ugh. Sorry, sorry, just, I’m still figuring all this out meself. It’s fucking confusing.”

“It’s okay, Lou. You’ll get there,” Zayn reassured him.

“You promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“’ll take your word for it.” Louis snaked his arms around his friends to hug them back. “Thanks, guys. Just… yeah. Thanks. So can we drink to this or what?”

* * *

When Louis woke the next day, he wasn’t sure what was worse, his hangover or his embarrassment. He had just meant to come out to them. He hadn’t meant to tell them all that _other_ shit. Where had that even come from? Perhaps getting drunk in order to tell them hadn’t been such a great plan after all.

His friends had been wonderful about it, though, he remembered, feeling a happy little glow in spite of his humiliation. They’d said exactly what he had hoped to hear: that he didn’t have to believe his bullies just because they’d been right about this one thing. They’d hugged him and reassured him that he was okay. That was nice.

It kind of made him feel like last night had been worth it, even if he was dragging his embarrassingly hungover self to class on a Wednesday morning.

* * *

He did feel lighter, having told a few people and having had it go fine. If he really, really were bisexual, he had people who would still love and support him.

He ended up going back to the LGBT+ office for one of their movie nights. He snuck in a little late so he wouldn’t have to introduce himself to people. Nick saw him and gave him a friendly wave but didn’t say anything since the movie had already started. The film turned out to be _But I’m a Cheerleader._ The bit about the main character having other people realise she was gay before she herself did hit uncomfortably close to home, but the film was pretty funny and entertaining over all. The others in the room booed and cheered and laughed loudly; it was rowdy and fun. Most of the movie didn’t reflect his own experiences and feelings, but then it was a pretty absurd and very American film with no bisexual characters, so maybe that didn’t mean anything.

He was ready to rush off the minute the credits rolled, but Nick leaned over and put a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Hey, man, good to see you again,” Nick said with a smile. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m – I’m good, yeah.”

Nick looked at him searchingly before pulling his hand back. “Good, glad to hear it. You know you can always come talk to someone here?”

“Well, not always. You’re only open a few hours a day,” Louis said.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Okay, smartass. You know what I meant.”

Louis laughed. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

“A bunch of us are going for milkshakes after the film. Want to join us?”

A few of Nick’s friends were looking at Louis curiously. He stood to leave and felt himself blushing inexplicably. “Er – no, I’ve got to go, erm, write an essay. Yeah, I have to go. But, thanks. Maybe next time.”

He hurried off, nervous as he heard the murmurs of _who was that?_ behind him. Maybe he really would stay next time if they were going to talk about him anyway.

* * *

Oddly, the less he tried to convince himself that his crush on Harry wasn’t real, the easier it was to deal with said crush. Constantly questioning whether he was crazy, whether his feelings were somehow made up, was hard. Simply having a crush was easy. It was basically his area of expertise. He’d been pining for Amy for years with no one the wiser. He could cope with this, too.

He could cope with the fact that his personal trainer was the funniest, sweetest, cleverest, most beautiful man alive. That was completely fine. He could keep his smiles to a normal size; he could keep his laughter to a reasonable duration; he could keep from staring too long. He could appreciate glimpses of Harry when it was safe to look, and in his mind he could smile for hours over Harry’s terrible jokes, whilst keeping himself totally normal on the outside. He could absolutely do all of that.

When he tried to tell Harry that he’d worked through some shit and they could dial back the intensity of his sessions, Harry just laughed and told him to do five more burpees. So, he’d definitely screwed himself over in that regard. At least that gave him a little reason to be annoyed with Harry. Unfortunately, his irritation evaporated the moment that he was in the shower and he saw abs. _Abs._ And his forearms looked great, too, he noticed when he ran his hand over his abdomen in surprised wonder.

If life were fair at all, his sexuality crisis would be a total footnote to the main story of _Louis Tomlinson gets hot! Who knew?!_

Amy was certainly noticing. Louis absent-mindedly pushed his sleeve up while writing something, and a few minutes later he felt her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze as she asked him a question. It wasn’t a terribly intimate gesture – he could imagine friends touching each other that way without it meaning anything – but she’d _never_ touched him like that before. He would have remembered. Any time he managed to show a bit of his body, she paid attention to him. He really didn’t think he was imagining it.

His plan was working perfectly, which did not at all explain how he found himself in the LGBT+ society office the next week, perched nervously on the couch and rambling on to Nick.

“…so now somehow I’m into this guy, but the girl I like, she’s properly into _me,_ and, like, that was the goal all along, so I’m wondering, why am I still thinking about this guy? I should ask out the girl who fancies me, right, rather than trying to pursue someone who, I have no reason to think he fancies me at all.”

Nick frowned. “It kind of sounds like you like the guy more, but you’re saying you’ll date the woman ‘cause she’s a safe bet.”

Louis shrugged. “I don’t know if I like him _more._ Maybe it’s just that, you know, brand-new-crush thing where you keep thinking about ‘em but it’ll pass.”

“Well, I think it’s stupid to go out with someone who’s not the person you fancy the most. Relationships aren’t about getting together with the person who’s easiest to get with, ‘cause then the average happiness of the relationship is, well, I’m shit at maths but I reckon it’s not great. I mean it’s not going to work out long-term unless you’re both _really_ excited to be with the other person, innit.”

“But I’m supposed to be excited about her. I worked hard to get her to give me a chance and it’s working.”

Nick looked unimpressed. “Obviously you want me to agree with you but I won’t do it. You should obviously go for the bloke who you fancy like crazy.”

“You’re biased,” Louis accused, which just made Nick laugh.

“Love, of course I’m biased, look around you.” Nick grinned. “Speaking of, are you coming to the next movie night? It’s a good one.”

“Ugh, whatever, maybe.”

He did, and he went out for ice cream after with Nick’s crowd of frighteningly cool friends, too. He felt quiet and shy in a way he wasn’t used to, staying on the edge of the group rather than pushing himself into the middle. Half the time, he didn’t know what they were talking about. Some of what he understood was a bit pretentious and annoying. They let him come with them, though, like they accepted him, like they felt like he belonged – him in his nondescript grey hoodie and worn-out jeans, amongst all their dyed hair and piercings and weird, hip clothes.

They reminded him painfully of the things he’d briefly worn in college, the bright trousers and colourful shirts and braces he’d had before his former friends had been so cruel about it that he’d thrown all that stuff out. He wasn’t entirely sure he fit with this group, but he suspected _they_ wouldn’t shove him down stairs for wearing bright red trousers, so all in all he thought they were all right.

* * *

“Dude,” Liam said.

Louis looked at him incredulously. “‘Sup, bro.”

“I saw you and Amy getting coffee. Just the two of you?” Liam elbowed him with a grin. “She’s all over you! Did you finally ask her out?”

“Oh. No. We just got coffee.”

“Ah. But you’re asking her out soon…?”

“Maybe.”

“You know she’s going to say yes, right? She’s going to. So what’s stopping you?”

Louis looked around furtively, but no one else was walking near them. “I know it’s stupid, but I just keep thinking about, erm, that guy I told you about, that I had a crush on.”

“Oh.” Liam still looked confused. “Well, you know I support you either way. But, you like Amy, she likes you… why not just go for the person who likes you? Seems like a no-brainer to me.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed. “It should be.”

It just wasn’t that simple, though. Instead, Louis spent weeks paralysed by indecision, just going through his routine: classes, gym, schoolwork, hanging out with Liam, teas and coffees with Amy, training with Harry, lunches with Liam and Harry.

There was nothing special about the day when he finally decided to change things. The year was slowly slipping into spring, with the brave early flowers poking their heads out, but it wasn’t particularly nice yet. Maybe it was the sexual frustration. Maybe it was the exhaustion of another gruelling session with Harry. Maybe it was the mental frustration of trying not to stare at Harry’s arse for an hour while also somehow trying to figure out the other man’s sexuality. Whatever it was, he felt like he’d had enough.

He was sprawled out on the couch in Liam’s flat, the two of them idly eating crisps and watching football. Trying to sound as relaxed and casual as possible, Louis asked, “Hey, is Harry, like, not straight?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, he’s gay. Don’t tell him you figured it out, though.”

Louis tried not to let his surprise show. He hadn’t figured anything out – he was just fishing for information. He didn’t necessarily want Liam to know that, though. “Why?”

“Oh, he doesn’t want to be out at work, because sometimes guys get weird when they know their trainer’s gay,” Liam said easily. “He had a couple clients fire him when they found out so now he tries to keep it quiet.”

“What the fuck. That’s messed up.”

“Yeah, it was really stupid – oh, come on!” Liam yelled at the TV. “That’s a terrible call! He doesn’t deserve a yellow card for that!”

Just like that, Liam was off the subject of Harry. Louis spent the rest of the evening with his thoughts racing. By the end of the night, he’d decided that he should just ask Harry out and damn the consequences. Figuring out exactly how to do that wasn’t so simple, though.

In the end, an entire week passed before Louis managed to do anything. He thought he might find a way to get Harry alone after their session and ask him then – after, not before, since he might as well get one last workout in before he ruined their professional relationship.

He wasn’t usually one to take a risk when it came to dating. Both of his girlfriends in school were girls who he knew fancied him – word had been passed discreetly through the grapevine so he’d been sure that asking them out would go well. He hadn’t dared to ask Amy out in the time he’d had a crush on her before beginning his plan to woo her at the beginning of this year, either.

He didn’t have any assurances with Harry. Yes, Harry was gay, and he seemed to like Louis as a friend, and he’d complimented Louis’ appearance often enough, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Louis _was_ paying him to help him look better, so Harry acknowledging that it was working didn’t mean that Harry _personally_ found Louis attractive.

He truly had no idea how Harry would react if Louis asked him out. It felt like madness to contemplate risking their friendship and their trainer-client relationship.

On the other hand, the way that Harry was always on his mind was its own sort of madness. It was a constant itch like he’d never felt before. For the first time in his life, Louis thought he’d be better off knowing – regardless of whether he got a yes or no – than living with his desire and fear and uncertainty.

It was still a terrifying prospect. That was probably why Louis was restless and squirrely from the first moment of their session, needling Harry and resisting his instructions just to see what reactions he could get.

“I’d tell you to drop and give me twenty, but…”

“But… I… already… am,” Louis gasped as he did yet another set of press-ups with burning arms.

“I don’t know how you can keep up such an annoying running commentary while you’re exercising!”

Louis wasn’t hurt by Harry’s words; he could hear the smile in his voice. Louis remembered one of his old girlfriends sighing about how cute he could be even when he was being annoying. He wondered if he was doing that now. Harry seemed amused. Was there any chance that he thought Louis was cute?

He was catching his breath when another trainer came rushing over, frowning deeply. “Hey, Harry, that guy’s here again.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry said.

“No. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, call security.”

“Yeah, sorry, I did, but there’s no one in the building right now so they’re a couple minutes away, and–”

“Ah, shit.” Harry’s eyes were fixed on a tall man who was clearly dressed for the office, not for the gym. “Sorry – sorry, Louis, excuse me for a minute. Keep doing, er, whatever, just do something.”

Louis watched as Harry rushed off to the man and grabbed him by the arm, obviously trying to turn him around. Harry hissed, “I told you not to come here, Ben.”

“You’re not answering my calls or my texts or anything,” the man said loudly, planting his feet. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“There’s a reason for that, you–” Harry bit off whatever he was going to say, pressing his hands to his temples and gritting his teeth. “This is over, and you need to leave.”

“No, you can’t just do that. We need to talk.”

“Dammit. Okay, okay, let’s just go outside, _please._ "

Louis shook himself as the two of them disappeared through the doors of the weight room. _Well, that was weird._ It looked an awful lot like a disgruntled ex harassing Harry, actually. That was rather awful, but it wasn’t exactly Louis’ business, so he reluctantly went back to his workout.

It was a good ten minutes before Harry reappeared, looking tense and unhappy. “Sorry. I’m sorry about that. We can, like, I can stay for extra time to make up for that. Or I can just refund your session.”

“What? No,” Louis said immediately. “That didn’t look like it was your fault. Well, unless you actually ghosted him, I guess. Shit, that was a weird thing to say, wasn’t it, sorry.”

“No, I didn’t ghost him.” Harry’s mouth twisted, and he looked away. “So… is this going to be weird now?”

“Is what going to be weird?”

Harry gestured vaguely toward the door. “The whole… obviously you get that that was my ex. So, like. I guess, if you, like, can’t work with a gay trainer, I guess I’d rather just know right now.”

“Erm, no, that’s really not a problem for me,” Louis said slowly. He suspected that _I already knew_ wasn’t a helpful thing to say. “Honestly. I hope I haven’t given you a reason to think it would be.”

“Sorry.” Harry sighed. “No. It’s just, people’ve been weird about it before. But, okay. Let’s, let’s just, like, get back to work, okay?”

The rest of their hour was awkward, to say the least. Harry was noticeably down. Louis tried to be bright and fun to compensate for it, but he was disappointed, too. He certainly couldn’t ask Harry out right after that whole scene with his ex. No, the timing wasn’t good at all.

* * *

He managed to last all of 24 hours before texting Harry. _Hey, are you around on campus?_

Harry responded fairly quickly. _Yes just finished a class, going to go work in the library for a bit. What’s up?_

_Can I meet you there? See you in front of the library in 5?_ Louis wrote.

_OK,_ Harry replied.

Louis waited on a bench close enough to the library entrance to be seen but far enough to have something like a private conversation without students passing within arm’s reach. Harry arrived not long after. Without sitting or even properly greeting Louis, he asked, “Is this the part where you dump me as your trainer?”

“No, jeez.” Louis frowned. “Could you sit down instead of looming over me? And stop assuming the worst of me, that’d be cool, too.”

“Well, you texted me out of the blue to meet you. I didn’t know what to think. Sorry.” Harry shook his head, curls swinging. “I’m really sorry, that whole thing yesterday, it’s still throwing me off, I guess. Sorry. What’s up, why did you want to meet up, then?”

Louis looked at him for a long moment. Harry was obviously in some kind of mood. Louis had a feeling that it didn’t bode well for him, but he couldn’t think of any excuse for this conversation other than the truth.  He took a deep breath. “Well. Look, I know this is probably awkward because of you being my trainer and all, but, erm, I wanted to ask if, er, you’d want to go out sometime. Like. On a date.”

“Oh.” Harry sat back, just leaning away slightly. “I thought you had some big romance going on with a woman from your course.”

“Did Liam tell you that?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s not ‘some big romance.’ It’s, I don’t know. I had a crush on her for a long time. But, erm, I’ve been realising lately that I’m – I’m bisexual.” Louis felt dread in the pit of his stomach, admitting all of this to Harry’s poker face. “And I, er, like you. So. I mean, you probably don’t fancy me, and that’s fine, obviously that’s fine, but I wanted to ask. So. That’s that.”

Harry sighed. “Oh. Mate, I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in being your experiment or whatever.”

Louis stared at him blankly. There were a lot of possible responses he’d imagined, good and bad, but _that_ was not one of them. “Who said anything about experimenting? I know I’m bi, I don’t need a double-blind peer-reviewed study to figure it out. I’m not asking you to experiment. I was asking you on like an actual date.”

“Yesterday you find out I’m gay, and suddenly today you’re bi? Have you ever even kissed a guy?”

Louis bristled. “Were you less gay before you’d actually kissed a guy? I can’t believe you would even say that. This isn’t something I just thought of yesterday, I’ve been realising this for a while.”

“Every time I flirted with you, you panicked,” Harry said flatly. “So it sure doesn’t seem like you were into blokes, or me, a couple months ago.”

“Wait, you flirted with me? When?” Louis’ mind raced, replaying moments between them, like Harry archly telling Louis he’d been looking at Harry for too long. “Oh, shit, wait, I remember a few times - I thought you were telling me off, like I was creeping you out by being obviously attracted to you. I was defensive ‘cause I thought you thought I was being weird.”

Harry didn’t sound convinced when he said, “Uh-huh. Look, Louis, you’re great, but I’ve been there and done that. I don’t want to be the guy you try out and then throw away when you have a chance with that girl. Just get on Grindr or something – there’re loads of guys that get off on that ‘converting a straight guy’ fantasy, but it’s not my thing.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Louis snapped. “This isn’t - do you think you’re the only gay guy I know? Jesus. But you know what, forget it. I didn’t realise I had to pass some test to be queer enough for you. God, this is like one of those shitty job postings for an entry level job that asks for five years of experience. Didn’t realise I had to have already been with a guy in order to get with a guy, so, well, fuck me then.”

Louis stood and stormed off as fast as his legs could carry him. Harry didn’t stop him.

* * *

 The first thing Louis did the next day was to call the gym and cancel all of his remaining sessions with Harry.

The second was to text Zayn and ask him to hang out that night.

The third was to ask Amy out.

* * *

 “…so then he’s like, have you ever even kissed a guy? He didn’t even believe me, Zaynie.”

“That is shitty, man. I’m sorry. But, you know, we’ve all kind of been there – you hook up with someone and next time you see them they’re with some bird and they act like nothing ever happened. Sometimes they’re not ready to admit that they’re not straight, sometimes they really _are_ straight…”

“But that’s not _me,”_ Louis snapped. “Are you seriously taking his side?”

“No! I’m just saying, that’s why he might feel that way.”

“But I wouldn’t do that. And he didn’t even let me explain. He just assumed. Who is he to tell me I can’t know my own, ugh, orientation or whatever? I mean. _You_ knew you were gay before you ever did anything with a guy, right.”

Zayn laughed. “Well, yeah.”

“Yeah, exactly. I shouldn’t have to _prove_ that I’m into guys. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Go to a gay bar and make out with a bunch of dudes? Sleep with someone? How many men do I have to sleep with, exactly, to be gay enough for Harry Styles?” Louis felt his voice getting higher with every word, anger spilling out of him.

“Whoa, calm down there, mate.” Zayn gave Louis’ shoulder a squeeze. “You don’t have to prove anything. He was way out of line.”

Louis sighed, sagging back against Zayn’s beaten-up old couch. “Right? I shouldn’t have to prove anything.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. I asked Amy out. We’re going on a date on Friday.”

“Oh, no way.”

“Yeah. It’s probably for the best, right? I mean, this whole thing started because I was trying to get her to like me. And now I am. So. It’s great, really. I’m excited.” Louis hoped his voice didn’t sound as hollow as he felt.

* * *

Louis managed to dodge their usual lunch plans with Liam on Friday without telling him what had happened. Liam was his best friend, but with Harry being a good friend of Liam’s too, he wasn’t sure how much he should tell his friend. For the moment, he avoided it.

For the date, he went with the classic dinner-and-a-movie. He and Amy turned out not to have a great deal of interests in common, but she asked him loads of questions about himself and listened attentively; they talked about their courses and gossiped about their classmates; they chatted about a few movies they had both seen. There were a few lulls where Louis wished they had a buffer of a few friends to smooth the conversation. There were a few moments where Amy just smiled politely at a joke that he knew would have had Harry in stitches. Louis wanted to smack himself every time one of those thoughts crossed his mind. He wished he could take himself outside, give himself a good shake, and yell, _this is what you want! This is what you’ve been working hard for, for months! You’re supposed to be ecstatic! You’re supposed to be having the best time!_

He did have a nice time, a perfectly nice time. So what if it wasn’t the _best_ – it was only a first date. They’d get easier with one another as they got know each other better, and it would be great. He was sure of it.

He walked her home at the end of the night, and kissed her softly in front of her building after she stopped and looked up at him with a sweet little smile. It was nice. He got to hold a beautiful girl in his arms, and kiss her, and walk home knowing that she _liked_ him. He felt warm and flattered. His happiness was complicated, but he was still happy.

* * *

“Harry said you weren’t working with him anymore,” Liam said accusingly, all but slamming his tray of food down onto the table.

“Calm down, you’re going to lose a potato. Yeah, that’s true,” Louis answered. He nudged a potato back from the precarious edge of Liam’s plate and avoided his friend’s eyes.

“Why?” Liam asked plaintively.

“What did Harry tell you?”

“He just mentioned it. He seemed surprised that I didn’t know and then he wouldn’t say anything else about it. How long ago did this happen? Are you quitting? Are you still working out?”

“I don’t know, like two weeks ago or something. Yeah, of course I’m still working out, just not with Harry.” Louis pushed food around on his plate. He could just say that he felt like he didn’t need a trainer anymore, but Liam had probably already started to realise that he was avoiding Harry, too. “If he didn’t tell you about it, then I don’t really want to get into the details, but we had an argument, I guess. We’re not really talking anymore.”

“Wait, _what?_ What happened?!”

“I told you, I don’t want to get into the details. I don’t want to ask you to, like, take sides. ‘Cause obviously you’d be on my side, because I’m right and he’s wrong, but, whatever. It’s not – I don’t want to mess up your friendship over it too.” Muttering, Louis added, “Even if he is a jackass.”

“I’m so confused. I thought you two were friends.”

Louis shrugged. “Just leave it, please, Liam. So did I tell you, I’ve had like three dates with Amy now.”

“Ooh, three dates. Is that the magic number?” Liam waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Louis kicked him under the table. “Don’t be crude.”

“Sorry, man. I’m just excited for you. So it’s going well?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. It’s been fun. She’s really sweet.”

The truth that Louis didn’t want to admit to his friend was that Amy had actually invited him to her flat after their third date, and Louis had said no. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep with Amy. She was gorgeous, she wanted him, and he knew that they both would have had a great time if he’d gone to bed with her. It would quite literally have been a dream come true.

And yet, he’d said _not tonight._

The problem was that he didn’t feel the spark. He enjoyed spending time with her, but he didn’t spend the whole day before a date in giddy anticipation. It felt nice to hold her and kiss her, but it didn’t fill his stomach with butterflies. He had fun talking to her, but he didn’t yearn to know everything about her. He was attracted to her, but he didn’t burn for her. He thought he should.

He could also tell that she was so much more excited about their relationship than he was. Unless he had a sudden change of heart, she’d probably notice soon, too. She was trying to make it work. It seemed unfair to her.

Louis wasn’t sure whether he was still too hung up on Harry, or if he and Amy just weren’t actually a good match. The whole thing felt a bit superficial to him. It was frustrating and it wasn’t fair, but it was getting harder to ignore.

_I can’t believe Harry Styles made me hot and then ruined my life._ That was actually a hilarious thought. He wished he could tell it to Liam, or tweet it, or something. Later, he wrote it on a snap of his torso and sent it to Zayn because at least Zayn would appreciate it. Zayn sent him back a picture of some creepy graffiti. Louis didn’t know what it was supposed to mean, but at least he’d been heard.

* * *

“I heard that there’s this really cool band playing at Monty’s Pub tonight,” Amy said with her hand on Louis’ arm as they walked across the campus. “Me and some of the girls were going to go. Do you want to come, too?”

Louis tried not to flinch. “Oh, erm, I kind of had plans already. I could maybe come after, though.”

“Oh, what’re you doing?” She smiled at him curiously.

“Er, just watching a movie with some friends.”

“Oh, really? I like movies. What’re you seeing?”

Louis looked at her for a long moment, admiring her sweet face under her cute knit cap, and wondered whether he should tell her. “Well,” he said slowly as his mind raced. _Should_ he tell her that he was going to go watch a gay film? He knew too well already that some people wouldn’t date a bisexual – she might dump him on the spot. On one hand, it might be good to know that early on. On the other hand, he didn’t have any guarantees that she wouldn’t tell other people in their program. Coming out to her might just mean coming out or being outed to the whole course, like it or not.

_Screw it, we’re graduating soon anyway,_ he thought. “Er, well, I was going to the movie night at the LGBT+ society.”

“Oh.” Amy frowned slightly, clearly taken aback. “Are you, like, keeping a friend company or something?”

“Well. Some of them are my friends. I’ve been going for a while. See, erm, I’m bi. So. Yeah.”

“Oh. Oh! I see.” She looked away and then looked back at him with a bright smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“You could come, if you wanted to.”

Her smile softened to something a bit more sincere. “Oh, thanks. I already told Melissa I’d come to the show, though.”

“Okay, no big deal.”

“Text me when you’re done, though, yeah? I reckon the band’ll still be playing and you could come join us.”

“Sure, of course. I bet you’re right.”

They walked on together, and Louis asked himself yet again why he wasn’t feeling more for this woman.

* * *

 “You _invited_ her?”

Louis reached into the bag of popcorn in Nick’s arms to pull out a handful. “Yeah. She was cool about it. Oh, shit, wait was that okay to invite her?”

Nick said, “Yeah, of course, if she’s cool. I was just surprised. I thought you’d hardly told anyone.”

“Yeah, well, I figured—”

“Oh my god, look who’s showed up!” Nick exclaimed.

Louis twisted to see the door and felt his heart drop into his shoes when he saw the newcomer. There was Harry, looking as unfairly beautiful as ever in a baggy jumper and with his hair pulled back into a bun, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.

Why had this possibility never occurred to him? He knew that Harry was gay. He knew that Harry was friends with Nick and a number of the other people he’d seen at the movie nights. Yet, somehow, he’d never considered the extremely obvious possibility that Harry would show up to one of these at some point.

Louis turned away immediately while Nick continued, “I’d wondered if you’d forgotten where our office even was. Did you get that map I had couriered to you, then?”

“Yeah, thanks, man. A pigeon dropped it off at my flat last night. No, my class tonight got cancelled.”

“Well, huzzah,” Nick drawled.

Louis shifted his focus to the woman on the couch next to him. “Have you seen tonight’s film already, Lauren?”

“Yeah, of course, I picked it.” She grinned. “It’s got an actually well-written bisexual character for once. That’s why I chose it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm-hmm. It’s really good.”

Great. Being trapped in a room watching a movie about bisexuality with the man who’d blatantly questioned his sexuality was _exactly_ what Louis needed.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was leaving, though. He wasn’t letting Harry scare him away. These people were his friends now too, and he belonged here, and screw whatever Harry thought about that.

He felt uncomfortable throughout the whole film, acutely aware of Harry’s presence. It was a shame – it was probably a good film but he wasn’t appreciating it as it deserved.

He stood up to leave the second the credits rolled. Nick frowned up at him and said, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“I am, yeah, I’ve got a thing.”

“You’re not coming out with us?”

“I’m meeting some people at Monty’s. You can come if you want,” Louis said, pulling his coat on.

“That’s ages away. And how could we possibly change our post-movie routine?”

“It’s not that far, but, yeah, I get it. Well, I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah, course.” Nick stood and gave him a quick hug. Then Louis made his getaway, not looking at Harry once, and hurried off to the bar to find Amy and her friends.

* * *

Louis was sitting and picking morosely at his lunch the next day when Liam found him.

“Mate, you are okay? You look poorly.”

“Ugh. I broke up with Amy last night.”

“What?!”

“I’m such an idiot,” Louis moaned.

“I can’t believe this. You worked toward this for so long and now you’re giving up on it?”

“But I don’t love her.”

“You’ve been going out for a few weeks! You’re not _supposed_ to be in love yet.”

“That’s what she said, too.” Louis sighed.

“You said that to her?!”

“Yeah,” Louis admitted weakly.

“Oh my god. Okay, tell me everything. Maybe this situation can be salvaged.”

“I really don’t think it can, Payno.”

“What did you do.”

“Please, don’t make me admit it.”

“Louis…”

Louis looked around furtively, making sure no one could hear them. “Well, so, I went back to her place, and we were, you know… so we’re like, half-naked, and she’s talking about how hot I am and how much she likes me and wants me, and I just panicked.”

“You’re telling me you were getting down with a hot girl and you chose that moment, _that moment,_ to tell her you didn’t love her.”

“Fuck my life.” Louis dropped his forehead to the table with a small, sad moan.

“Why the hell would you do that?!”

“It didn’t feel right!” Louis said into the table. “I felt like it wasn’t fair that she’s so into me and I wasn’t feeling the same, you know? Like, I wanted her to know that before we slept together.”

“Oh, God. So how’d that work out for you?”

“How do you think it fucking worked out? She _cried._ I’m a monster.”

She’d also tried to convince him to sleep with her anyway, to give it time for his feelings to develop, or just to make it a fling in the few months before graduation. It had been painful. She’d accepted it by the time he left, he thought, but getting to that point hadn’t been easy. He felt sick remembering the shock and sadness on her face.

“If she was that upset… you seem really sad about it, too. I’m sure you could get her back, man.”

Louis sighed and fidgeted with his hair. “No, I just feel bad that she was so sad. Look, Li – to tell you the truth, I’m kind of relieved. I wasn’t ever really feeling it. Sometimes things just don’t work out like you expect. I feel like… we just didn’t click.”

“Oh.” Looking downtrodden, Liam started eating his lunch. They sat in moody silence for a bit until Liam’s phone chimed. He looked at it and frowned. “Erm… Harry’s asking where your room is. Says he wants to talk to you. Why doesn’t he just call you?”

“I may have blocked his number. Ask him why he wants to talk to me.”

“What? Erm, okay. He says he wants to apologise.” Liam looked up with his eyebrows raised.

“Huh.” Louis tried to resist, but he was dying to know what Harry would say. “Okay, you can tell him.”

Liam immediately started texting back, even as he muttered, “You better unblock him. I’m not going to pass messages between you two forever.”

“Maybe if his apology’s good enough.”

The temptation to unblock Harry’s number grew as the afternoon wore on. Louis sat in his room, definitely not _waiting_ for Harry per se – he just had a lot of schoolwork to do so it made sense to stay in – but the knowledge that Harry _could_ appear at any moment haunted him. It would have been much easier, psychologically, if he could get a text that would give him a few minutes’ warning. Instead, Harry was just going to appear at some point.

Or maybe he wouldn’t show up at all. He might just chicken out. That could happen, too, and the thought that he might sit around here all day for nothing filled Louis with a slow-burning anger. He’d barely managed to read a word in the last twenty minutes, completely preoccupied by his irritation, by the time he finally heard a knock at his door.

He stomped eagerly over to the door and flung it wide open. A parade of the things he could say to eviscerate Harry raced through his mind and died on the tip of his tongue when he saw Harry standing there, pigeon-toed and frowning, clutching an incongruous bouquet of purple and white flowers.

“What are those?” Louis demanded.

“Flowers,” Harry said.

Louis rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks for clearing that up.”

Harry blushed. “Sorry. They’re, like, apology flowers. I came here to apologise. Can we talk?”

He held out the flowers, and Louis couldn’t figure out anything else to do but to take the bouquet and step into his room with them. He didn’t have a vase, so he had to put them into a plastic cup filled with water at his basin. Modest as the bouquet was, it was still top-heavy enough to threaten to topple the cup, so Louis had to brace it with some books. After some rearranging, it was stable enough that he could no longer ignore Harry.

He turned to see the other man perched nervously on the corner of Louis’ desk. Louis leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “So. You wanted to say something.”

“Yeah, erm.” Harry looked down at his hand picking at the corner of the desk. “I’m sorry for the things I said to you – you know. After I saw you at movie night, I talked to Grimmy and he said you’d been coming since the start of the term basically. He told me I’d been really unfair to you, and my mate Niall said so too. And I realised I was wrong in assuming that you’d just… that being, er, bi was something you’d, like, only just thought of. I jumped to conclusions and I was mean to you. So. I’m really sorry.”

Louis started shaking his head halfway through Harry’s speech. “No. No, you’re still missing the point.”

Harry’s eyes flicked up to meet his. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like, you realise that you’re in the wrong because you’ve got proof that I didn’t lie to you. But why are you looking for proof?” Louis crossed his arms, gripping his own arms tight in his hands. “You should’ve just _believed_ me. I bet if I’d told you I was gay and all that stuff with girls wasn’t real, you would’ve just accepted it, but being bi, suddenly you’ve got to have proof, and fuck that! It’s not fair and it’s not right!”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, listen. You made me feel like I didn’t have a chance with you unless I went out and, like, fucked some guy or something, and I shouldn’t have to _do_ that. If I say I like _you,_ I’m not going to go out and kiss a bunch of _other_ random blokes until I pass whatever arbitrary standard means I’m queer enough for you. I don’t want any of them and I’m not going to do that and I don’t have to! Do you get that? If I say I _feel_ something, you don’t get to tell me I’m wrong, you don’t get to tell me I have to prove I feel it _enough._ And _that’s_ what you should be sorry for.”

Harry stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. “I didn’t – I didn’t mean any of that.”

Louis glared. He could feel tears stinging his eyes and he prayed for them not to fall. “Don’t bullshit me, Harry, okay. If you’re going to not listen to me and tell me I’m wrong, then you can just leave right now.”

“God, is that…” Harry looked away again, running a shaking hand through his hair. Silence hung suspended between them for a long, long minute. Harry’s gaze was distant. Louis wanted very badly to keep laying into him, but the one thing he wanted more was for Harry to _get it._ He could wait a minute if Harry really needed time to process what he’d said.

Finally, Harry started to speak. “I guess… I really didn’t think I meant it like that. But I can’t really say that anything you said was wrong. I can kind of see what you mean, I guess, like it is kind of a double standard? Shit. I’m really sorry. I guess I just saw you as, like, another bi-curious guy who just saw an opportunity?”

Louis snorted. “You get a lot of bi-curious guys asking you out for a date totally sober in the middle of the day?”

“Oh, well, not so much, I suppose.” Harry laughed and then ran his hands over his face. “God, I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.”

“Well. Thanks.”

“Erm. You’re welcome?”

“No, honestly. You actually listened to me and thought about what I said. That’s…” Louis shrugged. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Erm, so, does this mean that you, like, accept my apology?”

“Oh, well, yeah. Why, does it matter?”

“Of course it matters.” Harry frowned. “I’m trying to make up with you, ‘cause, like, I miss you. And I was mad at you when I thought you just wanted to, like, use me, but then I realised it was my fault and I wanted to fix it so we could be friends again. So. Hence the whole apology thing.”

“Oh.” Louis blinked at him and desperately willed his cheeks not to flush. He was torn between happiness at _I miss you_ and despair at being just _friends again._ Apparently Harry didn’t fancy him at all if he just wanted to be friends. Louis could handle being just friends, though. He had said that when he asked Harry out and he meant to stick by it. He’d been missing Harry too, even as angry as he was. “I’m glad, then. And I accept your apology.”

Harry beamed suddenly. Without any conscious will, Louis found himself smiling dopily back. He couldn’t help it: Harry was just so cute, and he’d missed him.

“Erm, so, I kind of need to finish my essay and take care of some stuff, so…”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Harry nodded, pushing himself up off the desk. “I should go, too. But, we’ll be in touch, right? Lunch on Friday?”

Louis smiled. “Of course.”

* * *

Things were somewhat normal after that, in the sense that Liam, Harry, and Louis were all hanging out again. Louis still caught himself staring at Harry a little too long and fantasising a little too often about how nice it would be to kiss him. That wasn’t great. He was supposed to be getting over Harry, and he wasn’t sure that being around him was helpful for that, but he couldn’t resist. It was like an itchy bug bite: you knew you shouldn’t scratch it because you’d only make it worse, but sometimes it was impossible not to.

He didn’t hire Harry back on as his trainer – that just seemed too awkward. They occasionally ended up working out at the same time and could chat a little in between sets or spot each other. Louis missed their weekly hour together to the point that it was a physical ache at times, which was exactly the reason that he didn’t try to get those sessions back. He needed to put aside his fantasies of pulling a Madonna and sleeping with his personal trainer. He needed to move on with his life.

A few weeks later, his phone buzzed with yet another message. He nearly rolled his eyes when he saw it was yet another message in the WhatsApp group to which Nick had added him. It was mostly people in the LGBT+ society, and it was a mess of nonsense almost all of the time.

This time it wasn’t just another bizarre meme. Instead, it was a message from Lauren that read: _It’s supposed to be super warm on Friday! Let’s go clubbing and pretend it’s summer!!!  Get out your skankiest clothes boys and girls… who’s in???_

The group chat quickly started filling with enthusiastic acceptances. By the afternoon, at least a dozen people from the LGBT+ society had said they were in, including Nick and Harry.

Between his penny-pinching to pay for his personal training, the fact that his muscle-building eating plan discouraged alcohol, and his preoccupation with wooing Amy, he hadn’t a proper night out in ages. He hadn’t had a proper night out at a gay club _ever_. Clearly, this was a situation that needed to be put right. Louis typed his acceptance into the group chat and then threw open his closet, already planning his outfit.

He couldn’t wait to have a fun night out with his friends. Clubbing with Harry might be a little painful, but it would be so worthwhile. He could handle it.

* * *

_I can’t handle it,_ Louis texted to Liam.

_???????,_ Liam sent back.

_Nevermind!!!_

Louis was ready to smack himself. Two drinks in and he’d already nearly forgotten that Liam wasn’t supposed to know about his crush on Harry. He’d been moments away from texting Liam a photo of Harry in his ridiculous outfit that was surely designed to torture Louis.

Harry’s jeans were practically painted on, hugging every lean curve of his body. His shirt was a mockery of modesty: technically it was a long-sleeved button-down, but it was unbuttoned halfway to his navel, _plus_ the whole thing was sheer anyway. Louis hadn’t even _known_ that Harry had tattoos on his torso before. Now he had to live with that knowledge. He also had to remember to _not_ just sit there and stare, a near-impossible proposition.

“So what do you think, Louis? Going to go home with someone tonight?” Nick grinned, leaned across the too-small table. “I hope you know I’d be honoured to be your wingman for your first big gay excursion.”

Louis threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, thank you for that. Dunno, I reckon I won’t, but I appreciate the support. Oi, what’s with that frown, Harry?”

“Erm, don’t you have a girlfriend?” Harry said quietly.

Everyone in earshot started laughing. Harry looked around, obviously confused, until Nick managed to say, “Where’ve you been? They broke up ages ago.”

“Oh, I – I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Louis. How come you never said?”

Louis shrugged. “Nothing to say, really? She and I broke up right before you and me started talking again. I figured Liam would’ve told you. I mean, why do you think I never talked about her?”

“It was sort of odd you never mentioned her, but… I didn’t want to pry?”

“You’re so weird.” Nick shook his head. “Come on, let’s scout and find someone for Tommo, then. What’s your type, mate?”

Louis’ eyes went wide with alarm. His _type_ was sitting right next to him, a fact that he did not care to share with the group. “I – don’t think I have one?”

Some of the other lads returned with a round of drinks at that point. The ensuing commotion thankfully saved him from having to elaborate on the question. It was hard to keep a real conversation going after that, but easy to have fun. They had a big, rowdy group, with small subsets of them constantly moving between the seating area, the bar, and the dance floor. There was banter and drinks galore, and when Harry’s gorgeousness got to be too much to handle, there was the dance floor.

Dancing at a gay club both was and wasn’t very different from what he’d experienced before. It was still just dancing, bodies moving against each other – something he loved and liked to think he was reasonably good at. He felt less inhibited here, though. If he shook his arse, it wasn’t just a joke. Someone might very well take an interest in it. Men touched him differently than women did, and they felt different. It wasn’t necessarily better, but it was new and different and _fun_.

As the night wore on and the crowd had more to drink, though, the men started to get a little pushier. One went in for a kiss at the end of a dance; one grabbed his bum and asked for his number; three asked if they could take him home. It was flattering but it felt like a lot of pressure. Of course he was horny and  _theoretically_  he wanted to get laid, but Louis didn’t feel ready to make the decision to sleep with any of them. Despite the fact that getting some experience might help simplify his love life in the future, he didn’t want his first time with a man to be a one-night stand.

The worry that he was being a bit too precious about all of it set in then. He didn’t want to do that, but should he want it? Once the doubt had its hooks in him, he couldn’t simply enjoy the night, dance, and drink it all anymore. After a song ended, he snuck off the dance floor to check his phone and saw with relief that it had gotten quite late. He could leave at this point with some level of pride intact.

He made his way through the crowded club and elbowed his way in to the circle of people around the table. Harry was back at the table, too. Louis had glimpsed him on the dance floor several times, but he’d tried very hard not to look. He didn’t need to see Harry going home with someone else. He hadn’t really expected him to still be around at this point.

“I think I’m gonna head out, guys,” Louis yelled over the music.

“What?” Jade shrieked. “No! Wait, did you find someone?”

“No, I’m just ready to go.”

Nick shook his head sadly. “Seriously? I can’t believe you’re leaving alone. I feel like we’ve let you down, mate.”

Louis laughed. “No, I didn’t really want to go home with anyone, if I’m honest! I danced, I drank, I had fun grinding up on some fit guys, but now I’m knackered. I just want to go to sleep.”

“You’d led me to believe you were some legendary party animal,” Lauren said accusingly.

“Sorry. Look, blame this one.” Louis clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “He got me on this whole clean-living healthy-eating thing and now I’ve got the alcohol tolerance of a 16-year-old. It’s embarrassing. I’ve got to go home in shame now.”

Harry laughed up at him, eyes sparkling. “I’m sorry!”

Nick reached out to punch Harry in the shoulder. “You should be sorry, Styles, Jesus. You’ve ruined this lad.”

“He’s well fit now, though,” Jade said. “What? I saw your old pictures on Facebook. You’ve done well, that’s all I’m saying.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Love you guys, thanks for inviting me, but I’m out!”

Harry stood up suddenly. “Hey, I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, Harry, you really don’t have to do that. I’m fine to get home. I haven’t had that much to drink.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m all ready to go. I didn’t check a coat or anything.”

“Suit yourself,” Louis said. He was more than a little confused, but if Harry insisted, Louis had no reason to stop him.

It was a touch too cold outside to be comfortable without a jacket, but that was refreshing after the steamy heat of the club. Louis wrapped his bare arms around himself as he walked along. “I was planning on just walking home, but we can get a taxi if you want.”

“No, walking’s good.”

“I don’t even know where you live,” Louis realised. “Is it on the way?”

“Yeah, close enough.” Harry shrugged and didn’t say anything else.

They walked on in silence for a while. Louis felt strangely on-edge. Since they’d started speaking again, this was the first time they’d really been alone together. He didn’t understand why Harry had insisted on walking with him and he had no idea what to say.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, that place was sick. Some of the music was a bit shit but in kind of a fun way.”

Harry chuckled. “That’s good. I wasn’t sure since you left so early.”

“We’d been there for hours! It’s hardly early.”

“Okay, you’re right. So you, erm, didn’t find anyone you fancied, though?”

“Neither did you, it seems like.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I still don’t want to take some random guy home just for the sake of doing it,” Louis said.

“No, you don’t have to,” Harry answered softly.

“I know I don’t.”

After another long silence, Harry said, “All this time I thought you’d had a girlfriend.”

Louis laughed. “I can’t believe you didn’t know! Like you thought I had this girlfriend but was just never, ever mentioning her or being seen in public with her?”

“I don’t know! Maybe,” Harry said, laughing too. “What happened?”

“Oh, Jesus, let’s not get into it. Just, you know I had a crush on her for ages but once we actually got to know each other, we didn’t really connect. The spark wasn’t there, do you know what I mean?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Harry cleared his throat. “Erm, listen, I don’t know if this is kind of a rude question, but, erm, are you still, like, interested in me? Or is that done?”

Louis’ stomach lurched. Oh, god, he'd been caught. “Oh, shit. Have I been weird? I’ve been really trying hard not to be, I’m sorry. I’ll get over it, I swear. Please don’t be angry about it.”

“Is that a yes?” Harry grinned at him in the dim streetlights. “That sounds like yes. Oh, wow. I thought I’d fucked it all up because I was such an idiot to you and then you’d started seeing that girl and I just had no chance anymore.”

“You…” Louis’ heart was pounding, his palms sweating. “You wanted to have a chance with me?”

Harry raked a hand through his hair. “Erm, yeah. If I’m honest, from the first time we met I thought you were so cute and funny. I kind of put it aside because you were my client, plus I thought you were straight and I didn’t want to let another straight guy break my heart. But now I’m sort of… I mean, if you’re single and I like you and you like me, then…”

“You thought I was cute when we first met?” Louis’ voice had suddenly gotten all high and squeaky. He cleared his throat and tried to sound a little less unhinged. “When I was all pudgy and gross?”

Harry frowned. “You weren’t pudgy or gross. Not as in shape, sure, but you were all curvy… I thought you were pretty fucking attractive, frankly.”

Louis pressed a hand to his cheek, hoping that his cold hands could sooth the flaming blush on his face. He felt dazed and shaky and his face was probably so red that it could be seen from space. “You’re weird. I looked awful then.”

“You really didn’t.”

Louis looked away, trying to control to his stupid face, and realised that he was nearly home. “We’re almost at my building.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to come up? Have a cuppa?”

“Yes, please,” Harry said quickly.

Up in his room, Louis set to making two cups of tea, hovering by the kettle while Harry sat on the edge of his bed. “Milk or sugar?” he asked as he pulled two tea bags out of the box.

“Just plain, thanks.”

“Good, then I don’t have to go to the kitchen to get milk.” He normally would do for his own tea, but something about the moment made him loath to leave the room. He didn’t want to break whatever uncertain connection was between them.  

When he finally turned, tea in hand, a thrill shot through him at the sight of Harry. He was sitting on the bed, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers and just watching Louis. He’d genuinely expected Harry to already be on his phone after Louis had basically ignored him for several minutes, but no.

He made his way carefully over to the bed, sat down, and held a cup of tea out to Harry.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Harry said.

Louis pulled his arm back and twisted to carefully place the tea on his bedside table.

“Say something, please,” Harry said, scooting closer.

“You should definitely do that,” Louis replied. He rather surprised himself with how firmly he managed to say it.

Harry huffed out a heavy breath and a sound that might have been something like _whew._ Louis giggled quietly, but fell silent as Harry lifted a hand to cup his jaw. Harry was touching him tenderly, and his beautiful face was all that Louis could see. Louis felt his breath hitch. He couldn’t believe that this was actually happening.

They both leaned in, and then, just like that, he was kissing Harry – soft lips on his, caressing and sucking, Harry’s tongue teasing across his lips tasting like some fruity cocktail. Louis put his hand on the back of Harry’s neck and deepened the kiss, chasing that taste in Harry’s open mouth. He put his other hand on Harry’s waist, feeling the heat of his body through the thin shirt and lean, hard muscle under the skin. Harry whimpered ever so softly then, and Louis had to fight back a grin that threatened to break the kiss.

_Holy shit, I’m kissing Harry. Holy shit, I’m kissing a man. This is fucking brilliant._

They were both breathless and flushed by the time Harry pulled back from the kiss. Louis grinned. Harry beamed right back at him and asked, “You good?”

“I’m so good right now,” Louis sighed happily.

“You’re not freaking out,” Harry noted, stroking Louis’ cheek with his thumb.

“Fuck no. I’m way too happy for that.”

“You’re amazing,” Harry said. The naked fondness on Harry’s face stunned Louis to the point that it took him a moment to respond when Harry leaned in to kiss him again. He caught up quickly enough, though.

Kissing Harry was lovely, but the longer they kissed, the harder it became to ignore the ache between his legs. He felt like he’d been hard for ages – he hoped Harry was, too – and he very much wanted to do something about it.

He broke the kiss and said, “Hey, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you, erm. Do you maybe fancy doing more than just making out. I mean, not that the making out isn’t great, it’s brilliant, I didn’t mean—”

Harry laughed and quickly kissed Louis as if to shut him up. “I know what you meant. And, er, yes. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured, but I’m definitely… up for whatever, if you want to.” Harry’s hand shot down to his crotch and he adjusted himself with a little sigh. “Sorry, bit of an awkward angle there. Oh, that’s better.”

Louis let himself look down. Although Harry’s trousers were tight and black, Louis could still see the line of his cock. God, he wanted to touch it – and Harry had said yes to more, yes to whatever, so – so Louis reached out and put his hand on Harry, cupped Harry’s hard length through the denim and felt him.

“Jesus!” Harry yelped. “Lou—”

Louis snatched his hand back. “Shit, I’m sorry, that was too—”

“No, no. Didn’t expect you to just go for it is all. It’s okay.” Harry grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to Louis’ palm, a little gesture that had butterflies swirling in Louis’ stomach. Then he guided Louis’ hand right back down to his dick.

Louis stroked along it slowly, lightly. He knew he was teasing. Judging by Harry’s blown pupils and the way he was biting his lip, Louis wasn’t sure that he actually minded, though. That was interesting – Louis didn’t think he had so much patience tonight, but there was potential there for another time.

He went still. It hit him then: he wasn’t actually assured that there would be another time. “Hey, Harry.”

“Yes?” Harry said in a tight voice.

Louis shifted his hand over to Harry’s upper thigh. “Hey, this isn’t – I mean, is this just a one-night-stand thing for you, or…”

“Oh.” Harry grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “No, I thought, erm, I thought this was more than that.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” He kissed Harry again, because he could, because Harry was so lovely to kiss and he was – well, he didn’t have a label yet, but he was Louis’ _something_ now, not just a friend, not just a hook-up.

He reached for the button of Harry’s jeans then and pulled back to look at him. “Can I?”

“Yeah, yes, of course.”

It was the work of a moment to get Harry’s flies undone, and then Louis was pushing down his pants and letting his hard cock spring free. Louis wrapped his hand around it and gave it a few experimental strokes, grinning when Harry gasped. He kissed Harry again and then again and revelled in all the little sounds that Harry made while Louis nibbled on his lips and wanked him off.

“This is fun,” Louis announced. “How did I never realise that this was going to be so fun?”

Harry laughed, sliding his hands under Louis’ shirt and up his back. “You’re going to kill me.”

Louis bit his lip and looked down, watched the head of Harry’s dick peek out of his fist and then hid it away again. “You should take your trousers off. I don’t have a lot of room to work here.”

“Yeah, maybe we could take our shoes off, too,” Harry snickered, batting Louis’ hand away and leaning over to tug at his shoelaces.

“Oh my god. That’s embarrassing.” Louis hastily toed off his Vans and took his shirt off, then stood to undo his trousers.

Harry was still sitting on the edge of his bed, starting to pull his own trousers down, but then he reached out to grab Louis’ side and yank him closer. He started mouthing at Louis’ torso, lips skimming across the skin, stopping and sucking occasionally. One hand snuck around to grip Louis’ bum. Louis moaned, resting a hand on Harry’s head and watching. Harry was gorgeous and all over him. Between the beautiful sight and the feeling of Harry's hands and mouth on him, Louis felt stunned and half-hypnotised.

Harry hooked a hand in the waistband of Louis’ trousers and started to pull. “God, you’re hot. Lou, I want to give you a blowjob.”

Louis hadn’t thought he could blush any more or feel any hotter. Apparently, he’d been wrong. “Listen, H, I’m absolutely delighted to hear that, but let me do you first.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. Let me pretend I know what I’m doing for a minute before you show off your presumably superior skills, okay.”

Harry kissed softly at the skin over Louis’ hip. “You don't have to. It’s not a competition. Gotta start somewhere.”

“Yeah, and I’m starting here.” Louis pushed Harry’s head away. “So take your pants off, pretty please, or am I going to have to do it myself?”

Harry let himself be pushed and fell back on the bed, propped up on his elbows and grinning lazily. “Oh, maybe you are.”

“Bastard,” Louis said fondly. Harry was something to behold, stretched out on Louis’ bed in his barely-there shirt and with his trousers unzipped without a care in the world. Louis grabbed his waistband and pulled, hauling so hard that Harry had to grab onto the bed to stay in place. They were both giggling by the time Louis straddled a now-trouserless Harry and undid the last few buttons of his shirt.

“You’ve still got yours on,” Harry pouted.

“Shh.” Louis leaned back and spent a while running his hands up and down Harry’s body while Harry watched patiently, hands on Louis’ thighs. Finally he wrapped a hand around Harry’s dick again. It jutted away from Harry, tall and proud, and Louis felt he could truly admire it now that it wasn’t still half inside Harry’s absurd skinny jeans. He didn’t exactly have a wealth of experience with other penises, but he thought this seemed like a nice one.

Well, the only issue he had was that he highly doubted that he could get the whole thing in his mouth. Then again, people had always said that Louis had a big mouth. 

He felt determined to try. This was Louis’ chance to impress, and he didn’t want to waste it.

He also kind of wanted to know what it was like.

Louis scooted back until he could slide off the bed and fold down onto his knees between Harry’s legs, which were hanging off the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” Harry asked, sounding surprised.

“I really don’t think I have to spell it out for you,” Louis said vaguely, taking Harry in hand again. Time to go for it. Riding a wave of determination, he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of Harry’s cock.

Harry tasted like salt and skin. The bit of sticky pre-cum that Louis licked away didn’t taste like much at all. There wasn’t anything offensive or upsetting about it. He would have put up with a lot more unpleasantness to get those moans out of Harry.

“You don’t have to—” Harry said breathlessly. His hips bucked up a little as Louis slid a little further down. Louis ignored him. He’d stop if Harry asked him to stop or indicated he wasn’t enjoying it, but he wasn’t stopping over _you don’t have to._ Having to wasn’t the point, not here, not with Harry.

He’d never given a blowjob before but he’d received a fair number of them. He knew what he liked, the little tricks that got him going, and he was ready to use them all. He started to feel a newfound respect for all his ex-girlfriends when his jaw was aching just a few minutes into this endeavour. It was surprisingly difficult: he had to stretch his jaw wide and remember to keep his teeth covered, all while coordinating hands and lips and tongue, and on top of all of that he had to figure out how not to gag when he took Harry down as deep as he could. Blowing someone was _complicated._

There was no way in hell that he was giving up, though. Harry kept moaning and gasping, kept petting at Louis’ face and hair, so obviously it was going well. Once Louis started to feel like he was getting the hang of it, he didn’t have to concentrate so hard on what he was doing, and he started to realise that he was kind of enjoying it. The clearest rewards, of course, were the lovely sounds that Harry made and the way he touched Louis. There was more to it than just the joy of pleasing a partner, though. The fact that he was going down on a man after months of alternately worrying and fantasising about it was an incredible thrill.

A little corner of his brain reminded him of boys pushing him down and spitting _cocksucker_ at him. Well, fuck them. They didn’t know what they were missing. Sucking cock was sort of great, actually. He felt powerful, totally in control of Harry’s pleasure. Plus, it felt sort of… satisfying. He wasn’t sure what it was – the physical weight on his tongue, the hedonistic feeling of wrapping his lips around a cock and sucking, the taste, the illicit sexual thrill of it all? He wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t just the sense of a job well done.

Still, it was hard work. They could draw this out later when he had more practice; tonight he used every trick he knew to try to get Harry to come. He was soon rewarded by Harry’s moans intensifying, and then he said, “Oh god – Lou, I’m close.”

Louis pulled off and started to reach for the box of tissues by the bed, but then he changed his mind. Getting a mouthful of jizz felt like a big step, but it was undeniably the sexier option, so fuck it. He put his mouth back on Harry and in a few strokes, Harry was coming, gasping and shaking and spurting into Louis’ mouth.

He waited it out until Harry seemed down and then pulled off, wiping his spit-covered mouth with the back of his hands. Harry flopped back down on the bed. Louis quickly pulled off his trousers and straddled Harry again, looking down at him curiously.

Harry was smiling with a dazed look in his eyes. “Get down here,” he murmured, pulling Louis’ face down with a hand on the back of his neck to kiss him. Louis was rather pleased that Harry wasn’t shy about kissing after oral sex. They kissed lazily for a minute, until Louis started grinding against Harry. He didn’t mean to, exactly, only he was so very achingly hard and rubbing up against Harry just felt so good.

Harry reached down and started wanking Louis. He smiled against his lips and whispered, “My turn.”

Suddenly, Louis found himself on his back. He wasn’t even sure how Harry had flipped them; he’d done it so quickly. Then Harry was swallowing him down, his lush pink lips wrapped around Louis, and Louis did not have the mental capacity to think about anything for a while.

After Louis came and Harry licked him clean, Harry crawled back up the bed and pulled up the blankets, then arranged them so they were facing each other on Louis’ narrow bed, arms slung across each other’s waists.

“That was brilliant,” Louis said.

Harry grinned and nuzzled his nose against Louis’. “Yeah. Kind of was.”

Louis giggled. He brought his hand up to stroke Harry’s cheek and just looked at him: his beautiful green eyes, his perfect lips, his dark eyelashes, his adorable nose. _His._ Harry’s hair was in total disarray so he looked a bit mad, but to Louis, it looked amazing because he had done that to Harry. Harry was naked in Louis’ bed. They’d basically had sex. “I can’t believe this happened,” Louis whispered. “Harry, you’re... How’d I get this lucky?”

Harry smiled softly and looked down at his fingers tracing their way up Louis’ chest, then met Louis’ eyes again. Quietly, he asked, “Can I stay?”

“You’d better,” Louis said, biting his lip and trying not to grin too widely.

“Okay.” Harry kissed his cheek and then his eyelids, ever so softly, while Louis giggled. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'm on tumblr [here](https://fakedeepplantjerker.tumblr.com/) and there's a rebloggable post for this fic [here](https://hlsummerexchange2017.tumblr.com/post/164577672008/honestlytrulycompletelylarrie-we-can-work-it)! If you liked it, kudos etc. are always very much appreciated. <3


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